


Broken but Breathing

by spearbi



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: 16 year old hormones yay, Angst, Did I Mention Angst?, Family Feels, Human Bill Cipher, I like Bill not being able to handle human emotion sorry not sorry, M/M, Mabcifica is a gift, More angst, Multi, Older Dipper Pines, Older Mabel Pines, Original Character(s), Protective Bill Cipher, Slow Burn, bill slowly learning what's ok and what's not is my jam, comatose character, i am trash, longfic, mild violence??, paraplegic character, romannnnce, some blood?, this will most likely be longer than 20 chapters, will add tags as I go on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 16:24:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4794278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spearbi/pseuds/spearbi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your home is where your family is, right?<br/>Mabel Pines' home is shattered, broken after a freak accident. Dipper Pines is locked inside his own head, and Bill Cipher has made a deal he may come to regret. An ancient evil is bubbling underneath the small town of Gravity Falls, and Mabel and Bill must work together to save Dipper, and the world.<br/>Being utterly broken means making new allies, new enemies, and discovering that sometimes people aren't as evil as they're made out to be.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Splinter

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, so please bear with me!  
> The only canon divergences are that:  
> ~ Dipper and Mabel's parents died and left them orphaned at a young age, leaving them to live with their Grunkle Stan around the age of seven.  
> ~ Grunkle Stan was unsuccessful with bringing his brother back  
> ~This doesn't mean that Ford is gone for good though...  
> And that's it! (For now...)  
> Please read on and enjoy :)  
> -Fiddle  
> EDIT: Heyo guys, thanks for the kudos and hits! *throws pine tree hats full of love your way* if you have the urge to make fan art tag me on Tumblr @fiddlefox thanks ! <3  
> ALSO: I'll try and post longer chapters every Monday!

He floated over the man, growing in size. Damn this fool, he didn’t know what he was doing! “Stop,” he hissed, attempting to push a hand through the barrier. Growling as a pulse of blue light forced him back into the confines of the summoning circle, his one eye reddened as he helplessly watched the fool as he chanted. “Don’t do this, you stupid meatbag!”

The man ignored him, the wind whipping through his sloppily styled hair.

“Ut ex hoc sacramento meo sanguine-“ The man read aloud, and the demon trapped in the circle screamed in agony, his triangular body vibrating like a tuning fork.“-Adiuro in hac carne et osse, Sine fine usque creverit-“

Light enveloped the inside of the summoning circle, the runes flickering and blurring as the changes going on inside the circle quickened. The demon was screaming continuously now, a high, staticky shriek that made the man holding the red, leather bound book stumble as he continued to chant-

"Et cunctus exercitus pugnatorum cum moritur-“

“STOP!” Bill Cipher screamed, his single eye glowing bright blue. “You don’t understand what will happen when you do this! You idiotic-“The man’s fingers trembled as his voice grated on the last lines-

“Is mos quoque-“

“YOU CANNOT CREATE A BODY FROM NOTHING WITHOUT ONE BEING TAKEN FROM-“

"-INMORIOR!"

Brilliant, pure blue light washed over the man lying in his hospital bed, the book held over his face to shield his eyes from the piercing light, and he screamed. It may have been only seconds, but it felt like years to the man, who could only dimly hear the sharp staccato of his own heart monitor.

Finally, the light ebbed, leaving everything strangely monochromatic.

The man, with trembling hands, lowered the book as he stared at the pulsing ball of blue light. “Finally…” He breathed, his pale hands twitching as he reached out towards the light from across his hospital bed. “..A new body…”

A chuckle, nasal but low, echoed around the small room. “Pitiful, really. Most of you humans are. Yes-,” The click of fingers being snapped echoed around the now silent room save for the shaky breaths of the frail man in the corner- “You have successfully created a new body, made a nice summoning circle, blah blah blah- but you forgot one thing, you imbecile.”

The man looked around the room, trembling and gasping at the shadows in the room. “W-what did I forge-?”

On the floor, beside the hospital bed, a hand twitched, and a demon revelled at the blood coursing through his veins. “You,” a mouth purred, almost seductively as fingers raked through sandy blond hair, “Forgot to claim the body as your own, therefore making our deal… _null_.”

The man in the hospital bed began to shake. “N-no, please, I’m sick, I-I’m going to-“

Bill Cipher stood up in his new body, grinning, and his lips pulled unnaturally wide over gleaming white teeth. “Die. Yes,” he murmured, using his new hands to wrap themselves around the man’s thin, pale neck, “You are going to die.”

Bills fingers tightened around the man’s neck, and Bill took joy in the sight of slow, vivid colours making their way up the sick man’s face. The noises that issued from the meatbag's mouth were so pleasing, Bill thought to himself giddily. There were so many emotions to go with a new body! “I wonder,” He purred as the man rasped and choked on his own spit, “If your spine cracks as easily as I think it will?”

Bill laughed, consumed with ecstasy as he began to play.

Later, as he walked down the street, wondering why people were staring and pointing (perhaps to do with lack of clothing?) he felt the slight vibration to his left. A soul? This was interesting, usually souls were reluctant to find him. He almost laughed when he saw the soul hovering in front of him, looking as grumpy as an orb of flickering blue light could. “So,” Bill grinned. “I didn’t think you’d be kicking the bucket so soon, Grunkle Stan!”

_I need your help, asshole._

Bill chuckled, sitting down in an alleyway, wincing as his butt cheeks touched cold, slimy concrete. Perhaps clothes were a good idea…

_Bill!_

He turned and cupped Stanley Pines’ soul in his left hand. “What do you want?”

_I want to make a deal._

Bill’s eyes widened, the pupils dilating until his eyes were almost a solid black. Making deals with the dead were taboo if the demon tried to wager the deal, but when the soul wagered… Bill thought of all that life energy and licked his lips hungrily. “What kind of deal, old man?”

_I want you to protect the kids._

“Pine Tree and Shooting Star?”

_Yeah. And by ‘protect’, I mean look after them, care for them. Stay by their side until they die- don’t kill them or hurt them in any way._

“Is this because of the-“

_Damn right, because He’s coming, and now that I’m not there to help them out, you have to._

Bill raised his eyebrows. “And what am I going to get out of-“

_You can have my soul._

Bill’s mouth split into a shit-eating grin. “You have yourself a deal, old man!”

He held out his freckled hand. The soul moved towards it, pulsing lightly. Before they could touch, Bill spoke. “Hey, old man, how did you die?” The soul dulled briefly, fading to grey.

_…Car crash._

“Anyone else?”

_...The kids. But I don’t think they’re- I can’t-_

Something foreign tugged at Bills new heart at the thought of Shooting Star and his Pine Tree lying limp and pale as fine china at the bottom of a ravine somewhere. Cocking his head, he sifted for dreams. Keeping still for a few moments, he caught a flash of rainbows and glitter, and exhaled. “Shooting Star is dreaming. Pine Tree is… alive. I think.”

_Bill._

“Yessir!”

_Look after them. And don’t be an ass._

Bill saluted, his naked body gleaming lightly, reflecting the lamp post not five feet away from where he sat. “A deal’s a deal, old man!”

Blue fire encircled his wrist, and the weary soul of Stanley Pines moved into it. Bill threw his head back as energy fled through his new body, wild and surging. In an alleyway in west Britain, a naked demon crowed in victory, bound to a promise, as a soul was absorbed into his being. “Don’t worry, Stanley,” he murmured, standing up on lithe legs. “I’ll protect those little brats.”

“For a deal like this, how could I not?”

Half a world away, Mabel Pines woke up screaming, head wrapped in gauze and medical tape, her heart monitor going berserk.

Something was very wrong.

.....

Mabel shuddered, her heart leaping into her throat. Blearily, she took in her surroundings. She was in a white room, with white walls and a machine next to her-

She felt the thick bandages wrapped around her head, felt the side that was shaved so stitches could be put in.

She was in a hospital.

Her heart monitor accelerated sharply.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Why was she in a hospital?

Looking around, she saw nothing familiar. Her breathing came fast and quick. Where was Grunkle Stan? Where was her brobro? “…What happened?”

The images hit her, fast and sharp and painful. They’d taken the car out to the next town over to grab Mabel some supplies for her sweaters, as the yarn Mabel wanted wasn’t in stock at the small Gravity Falls one. They’d stopped for dinner, and by the time they got back in the car, it was dark. Mabel and Dipper had been singing loudly to some obnoxious pop song, and Grunkle Stan had growled at them, though both of the twins knew affection was behind the growl. And then?

Flashes of light. Glass crunching. A high pitched, keening noise. Hers? And then nothing.

Mabel sucked in a breath. It had been an accident. A crash. She threw the covers off of her body, the IV needle in her wrist pulling out with a pinch as she did so. I need to see if Dipdop and Grunkle Stan are okay…

This was her fault, wasn’t it?

The click of a doorknob being turned jolted her from her muzzy thoughts.

“Mabel!”

She looked up at the familiar faces that had just entered the doorway and nearly cried in relief. “Wendy! Soos! I’m so glad to see you! I didn’t know what was going on but I think there was a crash? Heh, my head kinda hurts but oh well! Anyways, can we leave now so I can see Grunkle Stan and Dipper? I’m sure they’re-" She stopped suddenly at the twisted faces of her friends. “-Fine?” She whispered quietly.

Wendy kneeled beside the bed and grabbed both of Mabel’s hands, tears welling up in her eyes. “We got a call from the hospital while we were closing the shack, dude. The doctors told us you three had been in a crash. And he told us-" She broke off, choking back a sob as she turned away to stare out at the forest through the window.

The handyman stepped up beside Wendy, his normally jovial face tight and drawn with some emotion that Mabel couldn't- no, didn’t want to comprehend. A bitter, cold feeling of dread curdled and slithered in the pit of her stomach.

Soos rubbed a hand across his face, swallowing hard. “Mr. Pines didn’t make it to the hospital in time, Mabel.”

Was everything moving in slow motion? Sound came to her as if from underwater, warped and distant. “No…” She whispered.

“No, you guys must have been misinformed,” She chirped cheerfully, looking anywhere but at the two, “Grunkle Stan is too tough to die!”

Wendy shook her head slowly, tears dripping onto Mabel’s bedsheets. “The force of the crash…. His spine… he didn’t have a chance. And Dipper-“

“NO.” Soos and Wendy jumped at the suddenly loud, trembling voice.

”MY GRUNKLE ISNT DEAD!” Mabel screamed, shaking her head back and forth repetitively, tears splattering down her face. “HE ISN”T DEAD! HE ISN’T DEAD! HE ISN’T _DEAD_!”

Wendy, now sobbing, grabbed Mabel in a tight hug as she rocked back and forth, her voice growing raw and raspy as she screamed. Soos buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking. “I’m so sorry, Mabel. I’m so sorry,” Wendy whispered, rocking the younger girl back and forth.

“No, he c-can’t be gone, not just like that!” Mabel whimpered.

Wendy and Soos looked at each other briefly.

Mabel wondered who was making that ungodly keening animal noise. Oh, she thought, her head spinning as her brain processed that her Grunkle was dead, he was dead and gone, and he wouldn’t be back, not ever-that noise is me.

It sounded like an animal in unbearable pain.

Soos pulled his hat off his head and wrung it between his hands. “Mabel… there’s more.”

Mabel looked up from Wendy’s shoulder slowly, and Soos blanched at the wild look in the sixteen year olds eyes. It was a wild, desperate look, trying to evade the truth. “Mabel… Dipper hit his head.”

“O-oh,” Mabel whimpered, “At least he isn’t dead.” Thank whatever god is out there, he’s not dead. Not like-not like-

“He hasn’t woken up, and the doctors don’t think he will wake up again.” Soos’ voice cracked on again and Wendy just shook her head, red hair tangled and dull. Mabel blinked slowly. And then blinked again. Noiselessly, tears began to run down her already stained cheeks.

“Why?” She whimpered, scratching at her wrists, leaving long, red welts along them. Wendy grabbed her hands and held her tighter, held the older twin as if the world was falling apart around them.

Which it was. Mabel’s life was shattered, fragmented. This was worse than any monster, any corrupt person the Pines family had experienced. Mabel wished for some monsters, for another Gideon. It would be easier to handle than this.

“What did we do to deserve this?”

And she didn’t speak again after that, opting to pull the covers over her head and shut everything out. Shut it all out Mabel. It’s just a bad dream.

Soos pushed the call button. “Yes?” A soft voice whispered, crackling slightly through the intercom.

"I… I think the patient could use some sleeping medication.”

“One minute, please.”

As Mabel drifted off into an artificial sleep, tears drying on her face, she wondered briefly why her body felt so off.

.....

Wendy stood outside Mabels room, sniffling. She sank down against the door, breathing slowly, her eyes fixated on her scuffed Converse. She pulled her hair over her shoulder and shook her head, her puffy face twisted in pain.

Soos put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“God, Soos- If she took that news that badly, how on earth is she going to be able to take the news about herself?”

Soos rubbed a hand across his face, almost as if he was trying to rub away the pain. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I can’t see Mabel like this. I can’t imagine her like that, never able to-“

“I know.”

“The doctors said she might be able to-“

“A friggin’ 20 percent chance, Soos!”

“…”

“I’m sorry, dude, I’m just so-“Wendy gestured weakly with a pale hand.

“It’s okay.”

“… It’s not okay, Soos. I don’t think it’s going to be.”

“…Yeah.”

Outside of Dippers room, a man sank to his knees and tried to sort out the emotions his body was putting him through.

Pine Tree? Comatose? Stuck in his own head, his owns dreams? How ironic.

His head was throbbing, and so was the centre of his chest. God, maybe this body was faulty after all.

Bill wiped a strange liquid from his eyes. Definitely faulty.

He clutched his new chest, tipping his head against the wall as he slowly sank to his knees, overwhelmed by this raw, bloody emotion.

Pain wasn’t so hilarious right now.


	2. Shatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Shut up, old man."  
> "You shut up, Cipher."

Bill Cipher reached out a freckled hand and turned the sterile steel doorknob. Locked. The demon smirked and rolled his eyes as he crushed the steel into a misshapen lump. Humans are adorable, thinking this will keep others out!

He wiped the strange moisture from his eyes and ignored the tingling pain in his chest as he silently opened the door.

He stepped into the darkened room, his one visible eye casting an eerie yellow hue on the room. It was small and square, with no light save for a window with silver moonlight peeking through standard cotton curtains. The light cast stripes upon machinery and circuitry crowding around a bed in the centre of the room. A steady beep, beep, beep quietly interrupted the silence, the noise filling the demon's new ears and making his palms sweat. He knew that beat, and he had heard the sound of blood rushing through those veins before. This was Pine Tree’s heartbeat.

It should have been jumping erratically though, running as fast as its host's mind. Bill walked over to the bed and leaned in close to sleeping teen. “You look weird without your hat, Pine Tree,” he sniggered, poking at the boy’s auburn curls, normally hidden well beneath his faded cap. The demon’s face fell slightly as the boy’s face did not change.

“Your face is so pale, Pine Tree,” he murmured, brushing a long finger against the boy’s cheek. “Usually it’s that glorious shade of crimson…” The boy had always been annoyed about how easily his face turned red, but Bill liked it. After all, there weren’t many ways he could see Pine Tree’s blood without killing him, and Bill didn’t want to do that. He looked curiously at the machinery around Dipper’s bed, squinting at the flickering lights and array of tubes. “What’s this shit?” he muttered, poking at the bag on the IV stand and jumping a little as the liquid inside ran through a tube that fed directly into his Pine Tree’s arm. “What the hell?” He yelped, grabbing the boy’s arm and poking the tube. Dipper’s face twitched slightly. Bill grinned. “You liked that, didn’t you, Pine Tree?”

He could practically hear the boy exploding at him now-oh my god, Bill! You’re so disgusting! He chuckled, lowering the boys arm back onto the bed. “Let’s see what else they stuck in you!” Moving the younger twin’s shirt up, he looked down and exploded with laughter. “Oh, this is great! How did they get that in there?” (See: Dipper’s catheter) He poked Dipper’s nose, which had two tubes feeding air of all things into it-“Pathetic, kid! You need more air than you already suck in?”

Finished with his fun, the demon sat down next to the brunette on the bed. “Okay, Pine Tree, let’s wake you up!” Not that I have a choice...

The soul energy from the old man was furling and swimming through his veins, filling him with the uncontrollable urge to protect, to help. “You loved those kids, didn’t you, Grunkle Stan?”

Faintly, from deep inside of him came a grizzled voice. _Yeah._

“Don’t worry, Stanley, I’ll get my Pine Tree up and at ‘em soon enough!”

 _Yours?_ Annoyance and amusement mixed in Stan’s voice.

“Yep!” Bill chirped, place his palms on either sides of the teens head and pressing his forehead against his own. “He doesn’t know it, but he is!”

_That’s weird, Cipher._

The demon shrugged, and closed his eyes. Mentally sending out his consciousness, he searched the inky blackness of sleep for the rose coloured mind of Pine Tree. Where the hell is he? Furrowing his brow, he pushed harder against the choking blackness, casting a wide net of consciousness.

There.

Shimmering filaments of thought wove through the black, illuminating the darkness like a beacon. Bill threw his own blue flares out like a rope, entangling them with Dipper's. He blinked calmly as he began to get sucked into a flashing blur of pinks, ignoring the loud cursing and screaming of the old man in the corner of his mind. Throwing out his hands, the demon focused on the boy’s mind and what it looked like.

It was vast, chaotic in several places but impeccably organized in others. It was a literal wilderness, with mountains and forests and entire oceans. In his several thousand years of existence, Bill had never seen any mind like this. In fact, most gods didn’t even have minds of this complexity…

Bill looked around at the field of emerald grass around him in something similar to awe, and then at the impressive forest in front of him. Pine Tree was very, very, special.

Yet another reason why he had to have Pine Tree for his own.

There was something off, though. The entire mindscape was dead silent, and Bill’s breathing echoed loudly in his ears. Pine Tree’s mind should be alive and vibrant, but not a sound could be heard. A strange feeling curled in his midsection, cold and slippery.

The old man sighed. _That’s called fear, Cipher._

Fear?

In his many years, his many possessions, he hadn’t felt a thing like this. It made him feel weak. Bill didn’t like being weak. A strange tremor spread throughout his body like a shockwave, and moisture made his hands wet and cold.

_You’re not wrong, Grunkle Stan muttered, there’s something off about my kid’s mind._

“Well then, I guess we better go check it out.”

_I guess._

Bill breathed in the faint scent of- how fitting- pine needles, and cast his mind out over Dipper's mindscape. An emotion prickled the back of the demon’s mind, and it took him a moment to realize that the emotion wasn’t his.

_It’s called confusion, Cipher. You feel it when you don’t understand something._

“Well I know everything, old man, so I wouldn’t know.” Bill muttered, his head beginning to ache (this was not a foreign feeling) as he pushed his net farther over Dippers mindscape. God, this kid had a big brain.

Faintly, Bill sensed the slight hesitation from the other man (soul?) before he spoke. _How does that work?_

“My net?”

_Yeah._

“Well-,” Bill grunted as he spread the web ever further and further away from his own mind, “It’s basically projecting your consciousness over someone else’s. When I’ve successfully done that, I can do a bunch of things from there. Alter memories, insert memories, and look for important things inside that mind, blah blah- ugh!”

The demon dropped to his knees, clutching the sides of his head with his shaking hands.

 _Cipher? What’s happening?_ Stan said, alarmed, not feeling the same thing the demon was.

Bill shuddered, trying to block out the stabbing pains in his skull. “Someone… trying to get into… my mind!”

A dark, malevolent mind was trying to seep in between the cracks of the shield Bill was trying to build around his own. The demon hissed, rage filling the space beneath his ribs. "This is my mind! Get _out_!"

Grunkle Stan felt a feather of fear slide down his spine at the tone of Bill’s voice.

Said demon let out a howl as his mental shield began to crack, tendrils of black seeping into the demon’s mind. “We need to leave, NOW!"

_Will we be able to come back?_

The demon convulsed, his eyes rolling up in the back of his head. “Yes! Can. We. Go?"

Grunkle Stan coloured in surprise as he realized Bill needed his permission to leave Dipper’s mind. The soul winced at the demon's grating tone and spoke his consent. _Yeah._

Desperately wrenching his mind from the rapidly darkening one of Dipper Pines, the demon and the soul began the switch back into reality. As Bill pulled the last of his consciousness from Dipper's, he glimpsed a flicker of light. A memory? Hesitating for a moment, the demon pulled the piece of memory towards himself.

Bill and Stan were sucked into the memory suddenly; the pressure from the invading mind abruptly disappeared. Bill looked around, hissing in surprise at the familiar building and forest around it.

 _Cipher? What are you-?_ The soul stopped short, shocked at the scene in front of him.

Dipper Pines was leaving the Shack, his faded pine tree hat placed askew on his mop of curls. “Grunkle Stan, I’m going out!” He called behind him, beginning to close the door. “Of course, sweetie! Be back before dark!” A voice that sounded like Grunkle Stan’s called back, sounding like the man but…

_I have never called that kid ‘sweetie’ in my time with him. Never. Stan said, apprehensive._

Bill blinked. “This isn’t a memory.” It was obvious now that it wasn’t. Memories had their own distinct tang, warm and slightly doughy, and this tasted faintly bitter. The demon’s mouth twisted upwards into a grimace. “I don’t know what the hell this is,” He said flatly, observing the teen as he headed towards the woods. “This isn’t normal.” Or good.

Dipper headed into the forest, nose buried in the third journal, narrowly missing several trees as he read. Birds sang from billowy branches and the sun shone low in the sky, promising a hot and humid day. _This definitely isn’t reality, though,_ Stan said. _It’s almost winter in reality. It’s summer here. Wherever that is._

Bill scowled. “What the hell?” He growled, going through the possibilities of what this could be in his head. This wasn’t a memory, it didn’t taste right, but it definitely wasn’t a fantasy. Could it be connected with the nightmare realm? No, that wasn’t right… It also wasn’t an alternate reality or dimension, because Bill couldn’t pick up the pulsing lights that defined alternate dimensions.

It wasn’t anything Bill had seen before, not in his thousands of years. “Dammit!” He hissed, digging his nails into his palms. He paced around the edge of the forest, fuming. He was supposed to know! He always knew! Hell, he was the symbol that the friggin Illuminati used! He was-

“Excuse me?”

The demon turned slowly. He knew that voice, had spoken through that mouth. Dipper Pines looked up at him, grinning awkwardly, nervously adjusting the brim of his hat so it covered his forehead. “Uh… can I help you with something?”

Bill blinked. Once. Twice. “…Pine Tree?”

The teen’s face scrunched up in confusion. He touched his hat, his fingers tracing the tree on his hat. “Yeah. My hat has a pine tree on it.” He looked up at the man again, the feeling that he should know this man flooding his mind. “Do I know you from somewhere?” He said curiously.

“It’s me, kid! Bill! Bill Cipher? You know small, triangle shaped demon that made your tiny life hell before your sister made us-“

The demon stopped abruptly at the alarmed and perturbed expression on his Pine Tree’s face. “You don’t… remember me?” He said slowly.

The teen began to back away slowly, shaking his head. “Uh… no. Nope. I don’t know any demons… and you know, I don’t actually have a, uh, sister, so..?”

_Okay, this is seriously strange._

“You can say that again.” Bill muttered, causing the boy to move backwards faster.

“Sorry, Bill- it's Bill, right? But I’m pretty sure I don’t know you. So, um I’ll be going now-“Dipper pointed a thumb at the Shack. “- So if you don’t mind I’ll just-“

“Wait!” The teen froze at the desperate tone in the other man’s voice. Seriously, who was this weirdo? He looked over the stranger. Curly blond hair covered the right side of his face, and the left half of his head was chopped short and coffee brown. He wore an eyepatch over his right eye. Weird.

“I’m s-sorry-,” Bill seemed to stumble over the word, his face twisting as he pushed the word out-“I’ve had a rather odd day, and I was wondering if I’d be able to get directions to the nearest motel?” Dipper noted that the man-Bill-spoke with a faint British accent. The teen nodded, pointing to a small dirt path-one of many-leading into the forest. “Just follow that one. It’ll lead you straight to the main road, and when you get there, follow it north until you reach the motel.” 

Bill nodded, his one visible eye staring intently at Dipper. “Thanks, kid.”

Dipper watched the man’s retreating figure, a strange sense of loss and nostalgia filling him. “Um, excuse me?” He called out.

The man turned around, a small smirk playing on his face. “Yeah?”

The teen pulled off his hat and fidgeted with it, his face turning slightly pink as he spoke. “The woods can get a little… odd. You might want to be careful in there, and not stray off the path.”

Bill chuckled, his eye roving over the boy’s face. “Don’t you worry yourself, Dipper. The woods have nothing on me.” Nodding his head, he winked at the brunette (or maybe he blinked, it was hard to tell with one eye visible) and continued walking.

Dumbfounded, Dipper rubbed his hands over his burning face. “How… How did he know my name?”

Bill walked a good distance down the path, his mind buzzing. “That was definitely our Pine Tree though. I know that kid. He’s a lot like Fo- Like someone I knew.”

_Yeah, that’s Dipper._

Bill nodded, exhaling as he leaned against an oak tree. Using this much energy and magic was always exhausting in his natural form, but in this meat sack he needed more than rest. He needed nourishment and supplements. “Where do you get those?”

_What?_

“Where do I replenish my energy and find nourishment?”

_By… eating? Food? And sleep?_

The demon clapped his hands excitedly, pushing the problem at hand out of his mind at the prospect of something new and interesting. He could think of the near mind invasion and the oddness of what he had just witnessed later. Now, he needed to see Shooting Star and get her to make him some of that weird liquid she made.

Grunkle Stan chuffed. _Mabel Juice?_

“With the tiny reptiles.”

_Yeah, Mabel Juice._

“Is Shooting Star at this hospital too?” Bill chirped, detaching his consciousness from Pine Tree’s and slowly bringing his mind out of the scape and into the real world. She should be.

Stan’s voice took on a tone of worry. _I hope so. This is all my fault._ Bill shrugged, slowly opening his eyes and opening his mouth wide. _(It’s called a yawn, Cipher.)_

“Well, the probability of it being your fault considering the anomalies in this town is a lot lower than if it were anywhere else."

_True._

Bill took one last look at Dipper, the teens face peaceful and serene. Unconsciously, his hand carded through the boy’s auburn locks. Warmth filled the demon, and he stopped abruptly when he fully realized what he was doing. “What was that?” He muttered, stepping away quickly and walking towards the open door.

_Well I’m pretty sure that wasn’t my affection._

“I’m a demon, Glasses. I don’t feel emotion.”

_You’re in a human body, though._

Bill growled somewhat unimpressively and stepped into the dimly lit hallway of the hospital, closing the door quietly behind him. Moonlight spilled onto the white floor in patches, and Bill cast his mind out over the hospital, flipping through various dreams like channels on a television. Some guy dreaming of-gross, why did human mash their mouths together like that? A child was dreaming of cotton candy and unicorns, and Bill shuddered and kept moving. A flicker of magenta, a cluster of stars and a whole lot of glitter encrusted everything-before turning into dismal shades of grey and white. “Shooting Star... but her mindscape is a little… different.”

 _Why?_ Stan said, worry seeping into his voice.

Bill rolled his eyes, following the scent of the girl's dream upstairs. Why couldn’t he teleport in this bag of flesh? “Well, for no reason besides the fact that her Grunkle is dead and that her twin brother is in a coma- oh and I’m pretty sure there’s something wrong with her body too, but I can’t be sure.”

Easily jumping up the stairs, taking five or six at a time, Bill hummed quietly. “Yep, that would definitely alter the mindscape of a person.”

The blond stopped dead on the stairs as horror and agony that wasn’t his made the demon double over and place his hands on the corridor wall. “Geez, old man, could you at least keep it in?” He wheezed, trying to fight back against the knot in his chest. The other man didn’t reply, but Bill could sense the turmoil churning in the back of his head.

_Mabel is hurt? I thought you said-_

“Why didn’t you act worried about Pine Tree?”

_What?_

“You barely- hell, you didn’t even say anything when I went into his hospital room!”

_Does- Do- Why do you even care, asshole?_

Bill rolled his eyes, hitting his chest with an open palm as if to chase away the internal pain. “I don’t, old man. I’m just bored, and bound to these kids. If you’ll remember, I have to protect them. Mentally and physically, unfortunately. If I don’t-,” He gestured to his upper chest- “The deal literally starts cutting off my air.”

_I never said that it’d start killing you!_

“Yeah, well, you kind of hate me.”

_For good reason._

Bill shrugged, exiting the stairs and tasting wet glitter and rain on his tongue. “It was your brother who made the deal, old man. If he left me a loophole unknowingly, and I used it, well that’s too-“

_Shut up!_

Bill winced as the force of the souls anger exploded in his head. White static fizzled, filling the backs of his eyes, and a thin trickle of blood slid out of his nose and over his lips. Licking his lips slowly, he straightened and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I regret what happened, Stan. Believe it or not, I actually cared for F-,”

_Don’t you dare say his name out loud! You don’t- God, I almost forgot how much of a monster you are, Bill Cipher. Just take me to my grandniece, you disgusting piece of-_

Bill drew up a shield around the part of his mind that the soul was inhabiting. “That’s enough, Stanley. There are some things you’ll never understand. So shut up. Before long, I’ll have absorbed all of the energy you have to give me and you’ll truly be dead. If you want to see Pine Tree awake and Shooting Star sane, I’d suggest you stay quiet.” Smiling coldly, he wrenched the knob off of Shooting Stars door and melted it. He watched the metal melt and drip onto the floor through his shaking fingers, his eye glowing an angry shade of red.

As the demon broke into a hospital room for a second time that night, he thought of thick black glasses and unruly hair.

“There are some things,” he said softly, walking over to Mabel’s bed. “That you need to move on from.”

“And I have moved on.”

Bending down, he pulled the sheet off of the sleeping girl. She awoke, wild eyed and about to scream. Swiftly, he covered his hand over her mouth and silenced the heart monitor, which was beeping wildly.

“Heya, Shooting Star! Looks like you’ve got yourself into quite the pickle!”

The pale, sallow faced girl stared at him in disbelief. “Bill?”

Said demon bowed gallantly, amber eye sparkling. “That would be me, kid! Hey, I was wondering-,” He leant over and ruffled the teen’s dull, limp hair and sat on the edge of the bed. “-If you wanted to help me wake your brother up.”

Bemused, Bill watched his Shooting Star rise back into the sky again. Colour flushed her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled. “Can we do that? That’d be great! I mean-wait, what’s in it for you? What do you want, Bill?”

Bill scowled, looking out the window. “I don’t really have a choice, Shooting Star. I made a confidential deal with someone who ordered me to look after you two. If I don’t-,” the demon wrapped both hands around his neck and mimed gagging. “-I die, which means that I don’t have a body, so I can’t leave this blasted town.”

The girl nodded slowly, hope slowly returning to her face. “Bill?”

“Yes?”

“Can I make a deal? To bring my Grunkle back?”

The shield around Stan’s soul began to crack, and an affection that was not wholly his filled Bill’s chest. _Mabel…_

Bill pushed the feeling back and shook his head firmly. “No can do, Shooting Star. There are certain laws… and some deals interfere with others. So, no.”

Some of the dullness that had covered the girls face like a mask returned. “Okay.”

Bill sighed, clasping his hands together and blowing a piece of blonde hair out of his eye. “Here’s the thing, kiddo. I don’t know how your physical ailments in this world will affect you in the mindscape. I mean, I don’t know if I’ll be able to carry you all the time, much less-,”

“Sorry?” Mabel said, confused. “I-I’m perfectly fine, Bill! One hundred percent ready to go and save my brobro!”

The demon winced. He didn’t want to be the one explaining. How had Shooting Star not noticed that her own body wasn’t functioning properly? “Shooting Star… how do your legs feel?”

The girl blinked. “My legs? They don’t hurt… I don’t feel anything.”

Bill waited for the last statement to sink in.

“Oh, my God,” The older twin whispered, throwing off the blankets. Two legs stared back at her, the left bandaged and the other wrapped with gauze. They looked fine, but…

She tried to wriggle her toes.

Nothing.

Tried to move her feet, bend her knees.

Her legs remained as motionless as the small desk bolted to the floor beside her. “No. No. This is not happening. I’m not, no. No!”

Mabel whirled on Bill, denial etched across her face. “You wake me up, Bill Cipher! This isn’t some stupid game! You can’t mess with my head like this and I’m not falling for this trick!”

“Shooting Star, this isn’t a dream,” The demon whispered, pity rising in his chest. He could hear Stan faintly in the back of his mind, making a strangled noise of disbelief. “This… this is reality.”

“I… can’t move my legs.”

“Looks like it.”

The girl stared at the demon, her face slowly draining. “No…,” She whispered, pressing the palms of her heels over her eyes, then removing them to press the very tops of her thighs, where any feeling ended. “… I can’t believe this. I. Can’t. _Believe._ This.”

Where had his bright Shooting Star gone? The girl in front of him was simply an apparition from her former self, a bent and broken body. Bill didn’t need to hear what the men in the white coats said, or what he had overhead Ice and Question Mark say.

His Star would never fly again, and that made his chest tighten and burn.

This is all my fault.

Bill had only heard the old man cry once before, after he had lost his brother. It was loud and pained, and it made Bill want to cover his ears with his hands. There was too much emotion in this room, affecting this stupid body and making that strange liquid rise up in his eyes and slip down his cheeks. It made him feel weak and human and he hated it.

_I wish I could hold her one more time and tell her that I’m sorry and that I love her, and I love them both and- and God-_

The soul broke off into pained sobbing again, and Bill’s head spun. “Shut up!” He growled, then winced as Mabel started sobbing, tears dripping down her cheeks and over her lips.

“This isn’t fair, Bill! I-I’ve lost Dipper, and Grunkle Stan, a-and now I can’t even m-move! I can’t walk! I can’t run or jump or-or-,”

She buried her head in her arms and let out a muffled whimper, and unconsciously Bill moved towards her and gathered her weak form in his arms. Realizing what he was doing, Bill tried to let go unsuccessfully. What the hell? Old man are you-The demon thought, pausing as he realized that Stanley was controlling his body.

Oh, hell no.

“It’s okay, kiddo. It’s going to be okay,” Stanley/Bill said, stroking her hair.

Old man, I’m going to erase you when I get my body back!

_Cool it, Cipher. Since you’re a moron and can’t comfort anything to save your life, I’ll do it._

I have a plan that involves big things, and you aren’t going to mess it up by periodically taking over my body!

Bill cast out his net and shoved Stanley out of the control centre of his mind, placing himself there instead. Black spots fluttered in front of his vision and he winced. He jumped a little as Mabel placed her arms around him and squeezed.

What was this? Was Shooting Star trying to kill him by squeezing him so hard his intestines came out his mouth? That would be hilarious, actually. Bill could see it now, his small intestine trailing out of his mouth onto the floor and-

 _Okay, that’s gross. It’s called a hug, asshole,_ Stan said grumpily.

If the other demons saw this, Bill would go from being the most feared to most laughed at.

_Don’t be a jerk, Cipher. My kid just- the soul’s voice caught for an instant- just lost use of her legs._

Grudgingly, the demon returned the ‘hug’ and leaned into it a little, letting salty tears soak into his raggedy shirt. Stanley, had he still had a human form, would have hidden a smile behind a hand at the sight of the cruel Bill Cipher hugging his one of his rivals, a sobbing sixteen year old.

Bill closed his eyes and let his body take over for him, shutting his mind down. Obviously, it was this meat sack that was making him feel all weird and… and what did humans call it? Fatterly? No, fatherly. He was feeling fatherly towards Shooting Star.

Sadly, he felt less like throwing up than he should.

_Ha! I thought-_

Please shut up, old man. Bill shoved the soul back into the corner of his mind, locking him in place even tighter than before. I won’t be needing you for a little while.

Finally, the girl stopped crying, and peeled her arms from their place around Bill’s waist, smiling at the demon with a smile so radiant that Bill’s mind went blank. “Thank you, Bill. I didn’t think that you could be nice at all… but I guess I was wrong!”

Bill grimaced, letting go of the girl and putting some space in between them, unsure of what or how to feel about Mabel’s reaction. “No problem, kid… but I need to do a little test, to make sure your… legs… work in the mindscape.”

The girl flinched and bowed her head, but nodded.

Bill reached out and pressed his hands against the older twin’s temple, reaching out into the blackness behind his eyelids and searching for Mabel Pines’ mind. Expecting the usual lilac and orange gold vibrancy of the girls mind, he passed it over twice before finding it.

Her mindscape had changed. Interesting. Gone were the sparkles and vivid colours- now, greys and whites mottled a dark navy background. His blue consciousness was almost blinding in comparison to hers.

So this is was losing someone did to the mind.

It wouldn’t make sense to take her into Dipper’s mindscape. If her legs didn’t work, it would be harder for Bill to get the both of them out safely. No, he would take her to the slightly safer place to test. He hadn’t taken a human there before. Actually, he had. A flicker of anger slithered down his spine. Once.

Turning his mind fully onto the task at hand, he focused on moving both of their minds into their destination.

He patted himself down as he appeared into the Forum.

Shooting Star was sitting on the floor by his side, looking around with an awestruck expression. Bill grinned, taking in the wide semicircle of different doors. “It’s kind of nice to be back.”

Mabel looked around at the white marble, multicoloured doors and blood red of the boiling sky above. An unreadable expression flickered over her face as she stood on shaky legs, wasting no time in running and leaping around marble pillars, her footsteps echoing in the massive, empty room.

“What is this place?”

“It would be too difficult for you to say in my tongue. It translates roughly into the ‘Forum’.”

The girl repeated the word, looking up at the gigantic doors. “This place- Forum… where are we?”

Bill cocked his head to the side, grabbing the older twin by the arm and pulling her towards the right. “It’s everywhere but nowhere. It’s like the… train station to you humans. It’s a train station of the mind, but without those massive metal machines. The doors open to different minds. And this is just one of the rooms in the Forum.”

“So… the Forum connects to all human minds?”

“In theory.” Bill pointed towards a door, which had enormous silver chains crisscrossing it. “Some are locked, some are sealed, and some are broken and empty.”

Mabel shuddered as they passed a door frame with no door.

They walked down several flights of stairs, Mabel marveling at the sprawling arches and stairs. It seemed endless- all the hallways and stairs looked the same. Bill released her arm as he stopped in front of a large, ornate black door. He turned to the girl, an eager grin sliding across his face.

“The doctors will be waking you up any minute now, Shooting Star, but I think you should see what’s going on in Pine Tree’s mind.”

Mabel leaned forward as Bill placed his hand on the center of the door, blue light spiraling up and all over the black door, creating mesmerizing patterns. “Wow…” Mabel breathed, all pain and fear forgotten at the sight of something so beautiful.

Bill blinked and withdrew his hand, staring at it. “Usually I shouldn’t be able to open Pine Tree’s door so easily. Either his sub -consciousness is letting me in or it’s something…else.” He muttered, thinking of that black, hateful mass that had attacked his mind.

His thoughts were interrupted by the door opening, and they both stepped back in order to avoid being hit in the face. Mabel’s jaw dropped at the landscape in front of her, at the mountains and valleys and the scent of pine needles and dry grass. “This… this is Dipdop’s?”

Bill nodded, closing his eyes and breathing in the air wafting through the open door.

Mabel peeked up at Bill, a slight twinkle invading her eyes. “So… you come here often?”

The demon turned away slightly from the door, confusion clouding his gaze. “As a matter of fact, I do. Why do you ask?”

Mabel stifled a squeal, her fingers itching for a pen and a sheaf of paper so she could start writing some ship names. Bipper? No, it reminded her too much of when Bill possessed Dipper…. Dill? No, gross. BillDip?

“BillDip…” She whispered, her eyes growing large as she stared vacantly somewhere over Bill’s shoulder. Bill shuddered at the vapid gooeyness in her eyes. “Shooting Star, don’t you want to see your brother?” He said, trying to and not comprehending what the brunette had just said.

Mabel winked, making clicking noises as she turned her thumb and pointer finger into a gun and pointed it at Bill’s chest. “Don’t you?”

The demon flushed as he realized the implications of what the girl was saying. “Are you insinuating that I’m capable of feeling such emotions toward you sacks of meat? You’re practically cattle!”

Mabel rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue. “No need to get defensive, Bill.”

“I’m not defensive, Shooting Star!”

The older twin snorted and made her hands into circles. “Sure, Bill. Just let me put my skeptacles on.” She raised her hands to her eyes, and Bill looked away from those big brown eyes, boring into his being.

“Anyways, let’s peek in on Pine Tree.” He snapped his fingers and glared at Mabel as she whispered something (“I bet you would…) under her breath.

The two leaned towards the door as the focus shifted onto Dipper.

Mabel covered her mouth with her hands, happiness twinkling in her eyes. “Thank goodness he’s okay!” Bill grimaced, pointing at something over the younger twins shoulder. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Shooting Star.”

“What? I don’t- oh.”

They both squinted at the black mass hovering outside of Dipper’s window, peering over his shoulder as he read. “What the hell is that?” Mabel whispered anxiously. Bill shook his head slowly. “I don’t know, kid. We’ll have to come back after you get some nutrition. Your body isn’t able to hold up with your mind very long at the state you’re in, so-,” He broke off as Mabel screamed.

“Dipper! Look out!”

The black mass was reaching two hands out, passing neatly through the window towards either sides of the teenagers head. Oblivious, he turned a page in the journal he was reading. Mabel looked at Bill, desperate. “We have to do something, Bill! It- that thing could hurt him!”

Bill growled. “You can’t. If both of us show up, it could do something even worse to Pine Tree or to us.”

Mabel sighed, putting a hand on the demon’s arm. “Thanks, Bill.”

And with that, she leapt through the doorway, arms flailing as her body split apart and reformed in Dipper’s mindscape.

“Shooting Star!” Bill yelped, one hand reaching out, having barely missed the girl’s hospital gown.

_Well, Cipher, do something! Save my kids!_

“What? How the hell did you get out of the shield I put around you?”

_It takes a lot more than that to keep me down!_

“Ugh… this is terrible,” Bill muttered, watching Mabel tackle Dipper to the ground, the latter screaming in panic. The black mass outside the window paused momentarily, then began to move again, the two black clawed hands splitting into fourths, a pair for each of the twins.

_Do something, Cipher!_

The demon winced as the air flow to his lungs began to cut off, red and purple spots dancing in front of his vision. He clutched his throat, hissing at the soul as it laughed at him. “Damn you, Stanley Pines! When I get the chance, I’ll-,”

_Yeah, yeah. Get moving before you kick the bucket._

“Screw you!”

_If I had a hand, I’d be flipping you off right now._

Bill’s eye turned an angry shade of red as his air flow completely stopped. He clutched Dipper’s door for support as he fought the deal running through his veins.

“Fine! I’ll go!” Bill screamed hoarsely, clenching his fists. This was by far one of the worst deals he’d ever made. It made him feel powerless. He collapsed in front of the doorway, sucking in breaths of air greedily. “Shit,” He rasped, feeling his throat. “That hurts.”

The pain wasn’t so funny this time, either. Honestly, it really wasn’t funny in one of these meatsacks.

 _Go, Cipher!_ Stan said, panicking as one of the black hands grabbed Mabel’s leg, inhaling sharply as she screamed.

“Oh, my god,” Bill muttered, rubbing his temples as he stepped through the glowing doorway. “This is a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to say except that my fingers hurt from typinggggg  
> ...Updated a day early because I did not expect to finish all of my homework so yay!  
> I took some liberty on the finer details of how Bill does his mind magic and on some of the concepts no regrets. Also this song was playing in my head 50000 times while I was writing this and let me tell you ITS HARD TO WRITE LISTENING TO THIS: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1vjAFe-aO6k  
> But it totally fits this fic so it was kind of worth my loss of sanity.  
> Also thanks to annakozume for editing!  
> Enjoy!  
> -Fiddle


	3. Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel is broken in more ways than one.  
> Dipper finds himself remembering pieces of a life that couldn't possibly be his, in the hands of a demon he's never known.

Dipper Pines hit the floor with a painful whump.

His head aching from where it had hit the solid oak floorboards, he moaned and reached out to push the thing that was on his chest off. “What the heck?”

A girl, about his age, grinned down at him sheepishly as she slid of off him. “Sorry about that, Brobro! Look, we’re gonna have to get downstairs.”

He squawked in protest as the girl grabbed his hands and pulled him off the floor with surprising strength. “W-what? Who are you?”

The girl’s golden brown eyes clouded briefly, and she let go of Dipper’s hands. “It’s me, Dipdop! Mabel!”

Did he know a Mabel?

“Awkward twin hug, Brobro?”

Dipper smiled and rolled his eyes but opened his arms. “Awkward twin hu-”

His head began to pulse, and Dipper bit back a hiss as the pain flared at his temples. What was that? “No, I don’t know you. How did you get in my room?”

The girl-Mabel-wasn’t listening, however. Her hands had curled themselves into fists, and she stood in front of Dipper protectively, staring at the window and the ledge beneath it where Dipper had been sitting. “Stay away from my brother, you creepy thing,” she said firmly, “Or else I am going to give you the full Mabel.”

She’s insane, Dipper thought, backing towards his bedroom door. Saying that we’re related and- and there’s nothing there! She’s talking to thin air!

His hand grasped the doorknob and slowly began to turn it.

Several things happened at once.

Mabel screamed as four bloody scratches appeared along her calf, and continued yelling as something threw her to the floor.Dipper screamed at the fact that something not visible to his eyes was attacking the strange girl that claimed to be his sister.

Suddenly, a flash of blue light blinded Dipper momentarily, and as he squinted his eyes against the penetrating light, a man began to laugh.

Dipper screamed again as he realized who it was. “You!”

The man-it was Bill, wasn’t it?- looked about eighteen or nineteen. His one visible eye glowed a bright blue, and he grinned cheekily at the younger teen. “Yes, me! I was hoping we could meet again in less surprising circumstances, but your sister-,” He glanced over at where Mabel was pummeling the black mass to no avail, and sighed. “-Your sister didn’t listen to me when I told her that you didn’t remember her.”

Dippers headache grew at the word sister.

“Who the hell are you? Are you some sort of criminal? Do you kidnap people? Honestly, nothing ever happens here and now-,”

“Pine Tree, hate to break it to you, but this place isn’t even r-eaoh shit!” Bill swore, whirling around to face Mabel. “Okay, okay!” He hissed to himself, clutching his throat momentarily. “I’m right on it!” Dipper shuddered. They were both insane. He had to get out of his room, find Grunkle Stan, and call the police on these psychos.

Holding a hand to his head as it pulsed painfully, the teen watched Bill shove Mabel backwards into a flat of Pitt Soda and-was he producing blue fire from his hands? Bill looked over his shoulder and winked at Dipper as he leapt at the invisible apparition.

As Bill managed to subdue whatever they were fighting, Mabel groaned and pushed aside the mountain of Pitt Soda cans, just as Bill fired a final burst of flame, causing every single can to promptly explode over the twins.

Bill was floating over Dipper’s head, and his one eye was crinkled from laughing at the twins as they glared at him.

“That was not funny, Bill Cipher!” Mabel huffed, squeezing Pitt Cola out of her hair. “Definitely not,” Dipper agreed, twisting the soda out of his cap. Bill laughed harder, pointing at the two, and finally the twins looked at each other and started giggling at the absurdity of the situation as well.

“Okay, maybe that was a little funny.” Mabel snorted, clutching her sides.

Dipper looked up at Bill. “You know, Bill, sometimes you really aren’t that-”

Dipper hissed suddenly as his head exploded with pain, waves of agony slamming all around him. What was that? It was something, that was for sure, and he knew Mabel there and Bill was a triangle and his head hurt. A. lot.

He didn’t even realize that he was on his knees until his forehead slammed into the cool floorboards, and that made his vision go all spotty and weird. Stumbling slightly, he reached up and grabbed the doorknob and leaned on it as his sense of up and down vanished. Mabel’s screams and the laughter from Bill behind him made his ears ring loudly.

He had to get out. If he stayed here much longer with strange people and blue fire and invisible monsters he was going to black ou-

……

Mabel leant over her unconscious brother, concern etched over her face. “Is he okay?” She murmured, absentmindedly touching the gashes on her leg.

Bill grunted, poking Dippers face. “He’ll be fine.”

Mabel brightened. “Really?”

“Yeah, as soon as I do this.”

“What?”

Mabel shrieked as Bill roughly turned Dipper over and pushed the hair off of the back of his neck. “As I thought,” Bill muttered, ignoring the older twins yells of protest. “Can it, Shooting Star. I just need to remove the implant on his neck.” He snapped his fingers, and a thin beam of blue fire shot up, burning a small hole in the roof. “Hm, maybe I could give him a haircut too, or- hey, let’s just take off his head!”

Mabel narrowed her eyes. “Don’t, Bill. I’ve known you for a long time, and while you are a grade A ass, you are one of the closest things Dipper has ever had for a real friend. And I know you like being around him, as much as a demon can. And don’t even try to deny that, Bill,” She said firmly, cutting the protesting demon off. “You can mess with me and can hurt me but you honestly cannot lie to me. You can lie to Dipdop and get away with it, but you can’t get away with it around me.”

The demon narrowed his eyes and grunted. Mabel smiled inwardly. You haven’t forgotten, Bill, she thought. You haven’t forgotten what it’s like to have friends.

“Maybe a… _boyfriend_?” She whispered to herself as she watched the demon lay her brother’s head in his lap as he pushed the curly hair on the back of his neck away. “If only I had my camera…”

Bill growled at the girl's thoughts. “You know I can hear what you’re thinking, Shooting Star.” Why did his face feel so warm? Bill had watched the twins ever since they had moved into the town, had seen more of them then he had ever wanted to, and Pine Tree was and always would be nothing more than an amusing meatsack. Right?

_But you know, you did cry when you heard he was comatose,_ Stan said, bemused.

Shut up, old man, and go away. Bill thought savagely, locking Stan away again. Rage filled him and he bit the inside of his mouth until the coppery tang of blood filled his mouth. He didn’t want to burn a hole through Pine Tree’s head. Well, sometimes he did, but now wasn’t the time.

The older twin winced as the demon used the fire to burn away the first two layers of skin on the back of her brother's neck. Bill curled his lip as he used his pinkie finger to dig a wriggling black worm out of the back of Dippers neck.

Mabel shuddered as Bill crushed the worm to black juice. The demon lit his hand on fire and watched as black powder fell to the attic floor. “Now whatever that was won’t be able to mess with anymore of Pine Tree’s memories.”

“Dipper- he said he didn’t have a sister. Did that thing- whatever it was- take his memories?”

“Yep.”

Mabel bit at her nails. “When do they come back?”

The demon shrugged, pushing Dipper's head off his lap. The teen whimpered slightly as his head hit the hard ground, and Bill groaned in annoyance, pulling the boy back into his lap. Mabel bit her lip and tried not to squeal. Think of white elephants. White elephants, white elephants…

Bill’s brow furrowed at Mabel’s stream of thought but he began to speak rather than ask her. “I don’t know. Maybe they’ve been permanently erased. Or maybe they need a trigger to bring them all back.”

The older twin shivered. “He’ll remember. He has too. There’s no way Dipper could just never remember all the insane things that have happened at home.”

Bill shrugged. “Anyways, I can’t take him out of here until he remembers. Otherwise bad things would happen.”

“What bad things?”

A maniacal glint entered the demon’s eyes. “Oh, his brain probably wouldn’t be able to handle any of this and it would overheat and explode and leak out of his nose and ears-,”

“Okay! I get the picture!” Mabel cried, crouching down and placing a hand on her brother’s forehead. “It’s really warm,” She said. “Did he black out because I told him he was my brother?”

Bill shrugged again, staring up at the hole in the ceiling. “That and the fact that I was hurling fireballs at an invisible creature.”

Mabel nodded, sitting beside Bill, the heady scent of pine needles filling her nose. “This place feels so real,” she whispered. “Dipper really is something else.”

“It’s not all him. There’s some other creature in his head, pulling all of this together.”

“What is it?”

Bill shook his head slowly, frustration etched across his face. “I don’t know. Nothing makes sense.”

“So… what now?”

“We’re going to take you back, and I’ll stay here with Pine Tree to make sure he doesn’t get another implant while he sleeps.”

Mabel swallowed, looking down at the floor. “I don’t want to go back. I-,”

“Humans can’t live in their dreams, Shooting Star. They’ll die sooner or later. That’s why I need to get Pine Tree to remember. Soon.”

Mabel’s fingers began to shake. “No. I can’t lose Dipper. Not him too. I can’t. Please, Bill. I don’t have anything left. I’ll make any deal. Please save him!”

Oh, how badly he wanted to make that deal, to feel the blue flames curl up his arm and take a promise from Shooting Star. He craved it.

But Bill felt the air leaving his lungs, the tightness around his windpipe and knew that if he made that deal he’d be dead, or at least his body would. And that would ruin all of his plans.

“No need, kid. I’ll save him.”

The demon froze in shock as the girl threw her arms around him for the second time that night. “Thank you, Bill, I-,” Her voice cracked and she shook her head against his shoulder. Hesitantly, Bill raised a hand and patted the girl's back.

“Shooting Star?”

“Yes?”

“Your knee is covering Pine Tree’s face.”

“Oh, shit!”

Mabel scrambled off of Dipper, her face flushed. “Sorry, Brobro!”

Bill sighed, and gently laid the other teen onto the floor as he stood. “I’ll send you back home by yourself, kid. You think you’ll survive?”

Mabel nodded, wincing as the cuts on her leg stung. “Will these show up when I wake up?”

“Probably some form of them, but I don’t think you’re going to feel them.”

Mabel flinched as a feeling of dread overwhelmed her. “O-okay.” She took one more look at her brother’s peaceful face, and nodded at Bill. “Thanks, Bill.”

Bill smirked, but it was forced. “Anytime, Shooting Star. I’ll see you a little later.” He waved his left hand and a door appeared, shiny and red. “This will take you back to you.”

Mabel grasped the doorknob and turned It hesitantly. “Bill…”

“Yeah, kid?”

“Would you be able to make a deal that involves me getting my legs back?”

Though Mabel couldn’t see the demon with her back to him, the sudden silence informed her that Bill was thinking hard. “We’ll… talk about this later.”

Mabel sighed. “Okay, Bill.” She opened the door and winced at the white light. “See you soon.”

Closing her eyes, she walked into the light and didn’t look back.

……

Hands were shaking her, prodding her. She felt a breeze as a blanket was pulled off of her lower body, and her eyes shot open.

“Hey!”

A woman dressed in a white coat and blue pants lowered her fabric mask and smiled warmly at her. “Hello, Ms. Pines. It’s about time that you’ve woken up. We were a little worried for a moment there.” Mabel smiled quietly as she felt the nothingness that filled the space of her legs. She looked down at them, self-loathing simmering in the pit of her stomach. I’m so weak. I can’t save Dipdop like this.

The woman held out a gloved hand. “Formally, I’m called Dr. Talway, but you can call me Trish.”

Mabel took the older woman’s hand, forcing herself to smile back. “And you can call me Mabel!”

Trish nodded, sitting down on the edge of Mabel’s bed. “Okay, Mabel. I think we should get straight down to business here. As you already know, you were in a car accident. Unfortunately, your guardian didn’t make it, and your brother is in a coma.” Mabel nodded tightly, gripping the sides of the bed. “I know.”

Trish nodded. “I think you also know that you can’t move your legs. You see, when the car crashed, it threw you from the car and onto the road. We almost weren’t able to save you, but we did. The impact of the ground went directly onto and through your spine, and it is damaged almost beyond repair. Spinal cord injuries are debilitating- but only your legs have been affected. That’s called paraplegia. You have a slight chance of being able to walk again, but it is slim.”

Mabel shuddered, staring at the blank white wall. Trish nodded sympathetically, her green eyes dulled with sadness. “In all honesty, Mabel, you’re lucky. Most of the patients that have come here have been far worse off. That crash should have fully paralyzed your body. We’re still puzzling over how it didn’t.” Trish patted Mabel’s arm, then stood up. “I’ll be right back. There’s someone who’s been waiting a while to come and see you.” Mabel nodded dully as the doctor left the room quietly, already thinking about being back in the Mindscape with Bill and her brother. She was already thinking about what it had felt like to run and jump and leap, things she was probably never going to be able to do again.

And, to top it off, she would never kiss her Grunkle’s scruffy cheek again, or sing karaoke off key with her two favorite people. Everything was skewed and wrong, and it physically hurt to think about all those years filled with adventure and light and happiness.

“Mabel!”

Said girl looked up, disbelief in her eyes as she took in the person in front of her. “P-Paz?” Pacifica Northwest nodded, her blonde hair waving around her slim shoulders as she threw her arms around the other girl. “Hey, nerd. A little birdie told me you’re going to need a place to stay after you get out of this hovel.”

Mabel blinked, drawing out of the hug. “I thought you were in England?” Pacifica was sent off to an elite boarding school in England and usually only came back home to Gravity Falls for holidays and summer break. Pacifica flicked her purple hoop earrings and rolled her eyes. “When I heard about the accident, I figured you could use a friend. Also, I’m so done with my parents and this is totally going to piss them off. They’re in Beijing right now on a business trip so we have the house to ourselves!”

Mabel let out a shocked laugh. “It’s good to see you again, Paz.” They had always had the interesting relationship- they’d gone from enemies to competitive rivals to friends over the years. Mabel could still remember her first day at the Gravity Falls elementary school, when she and Pacifica had butted heads for the lead of the school play. Memories of heated golfing, fancy parties and boys who made out with their own puppets ran through her head and she smiled.

That smile disappeared as Pacifica spoke. “So, when can you leave? You look fine to me, unless that crash really did something to your head.”

“My legs.”

Pacifica furrowed her manicured eyebrows. “What?”

Mabel swallowed and looked away from the other girl. “The crash… apparently it injured my spinal cord. I think the term for what happened is- I’m a par-paraplegic. They- the doctors don’t think I’ll be able to walk again.”

Pacifica snorted. “You’re joking, right?” She stared at Mabel’s face, but there was no Surprise! or Just messing with you! or even Mabel’s classic Whomp, whomp! Just sadness and pain. Pacifica sucked in a breath. “Oh my god, Mabel…”

Mabel shook her head. “I’m the lucky one, Paz.”

Pacifica blanched. “Is Dipper- that dweeb-?”

“Comatose.”

“Your grand uncle though, wasn’t he-,”

“He’s… dead.”

Pacifica reached out and clutched Mabel’s hands, tears welling up in her eyes. “God, Mabel, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know-I-I thought it was just a little accident, and-,” She shook her head, tears landing on their clasped hands. Mabel let out a noise that was half laugh, half sob. “It’s okay.”

Pacifica wiped her eyes with the back of one hand. “No, it’s not.”

You’re right, Mabel thought. It’s not. And it’s never going to be okay.

Looking down at Pacifica, she felt self-loathing well up in her chest. This was her fault. Her Grunkle’s death was her fault. Her brother’s precarious state of mind was her fault. Wendy, Soos, and Pacifica- their grief was all. Her fault.

She had to fix this. For all of them. Even if it meant giving away her soul.

Trish walked back into the room, wheeling a silvery metallic wheelchair. She smiled softly at the two girls. “If you want, you two could go outside? Today is turning out to be lovely.” She gestured out the window, where the sun was shining through the almost bare trees.

Pacifica nodded, sniffling.

Mabel squinted at the wheelchair. “Trish….,”

“Yes?”

“Do you have any glitter? Or sparkles? Some acrylic paint and sealant?” Trish blinked, a confused expression crossing her face. “What?”

Pacifica snorted, standing up and grabbing the wheelchair from the doctor. “What she’s trying to say is that she wants to Mabel-ify that ‘chair, doc.”

The doctor quirked her eyebrow at the blondes rudeness but said nothing. “Alright, it’s good to see you’re doing okay, Mabel.”

Mabel nodded, forcing a smile onto her face. It’s not okay. “I am! Thanks, Trish!”

“I’ll show you around the rehabilitation center in a little bit, okay? But right now I’ll leave you two to your own devices.”

Both girls smiled and nodded angelically as Trish left the room. “Hey, Mabes?”

“Yeah?”

Pacifica looked around the room, her nose wrinkling. “There’s nothing worthy enough for your ‘chair around here. Let’s get out of here and hit up the mall.”

“Are you sure that’s the best idea?”

“It’s definitely a bad one, but the clothes you’re wearing are worse.”

Mabel sighed. She should be dead anyways, and it’s not like she had anything left to regret. And if she died at the mall? Well, it would be exactly what she deserved. “Why not? I need some knitting supplies too.” Pacifica grinned and helped the girl sit up in the bed. “Let’s blow this shit stand!”

Bill threw the covers over Dipper’s body, then sat down in a chair next to the bed, exhaling loudly. His right eye closed reflexively as he pushed the eye patch away from it. “Damn, that’s bright.” Bill wiggled his fingers and hummed softly as bright blue fire wove in between them. “Let’s get down to protecting you, kid.”

As he began to trace out a circle with the flames, both his hands moving along the wooden boards beside the bed, his thoughts wandered away from the task at hand to a memory of the two twins.

__

“You can’t trust him, Mabel!” Dipper had hissed, pacing back and forth furiously. “Remember two years ago? That opera you held for the weirdo you liked? He possessed me, Mabel! We’re not letting him into the house!”

__

Mabel sighed, grabbing her younger brother’s arm. “Listen, Dipper… he may have screwed up a lot- yeah, a lot, I know,” she snapped as her brother snorted incredulously, “But he still has some twisted sense of humanity and I think even demons get lonely.”

__

Dipper growled, kicking a thick book across the floor. “Loneliness my ass! Bill Cipher is a bloody, murdering demon who doesn’t care who he uses as long as he gets his way! He has an ulterior motive, I just know it- I need some time to prove it!”

__

Silence followed as Mabel looked at the ground. “Brobro… I trusted my gut on this one. I think I made the right decision.”

__

The younger twin's eyes widened as he realized what she had said. “You didn’t.”

__

“Dipdop-,”

__

“Hiya, Pine Tree!”

__

Dipper gritted his teeth as he slowly turned to face the voice coming from behind him. “Oh, hell no.” The demon had bobbed up and down, almost in an excited fashion as he zoomed around Dipper’s room, his tiny legs trailing behind his triangular body. “Nice room you’ve got here, kid! Though it’s kind of messy. Hey, is this underwea-,”

__

“DON’T TOUCH MY STUFF!” Dipper yelled as the triangle pulled the underpants on, giggling as he hoisted the underwear above his head so only part of his eye was visible. Mabel tried her best to fight back the hysterical giggles that were threatening to leap out of her throat.

__

Dipper started shaking. “I hate this place. I hate this town, and I wish mom and dad hadn’t died. I hate the fact that you made a deal with that stupid triangle, and I hate you, Bill!”

__

Bill pulled the underwear off of his body, humming quietly. “Do you really, Pine Tree!”

__

Dipper walked towards his bedroom door, vibrating with anger. “I hate you more than I have ever hated anything in my entire life. I’m not going to forget what you did two us. I utterly loathe you, Bill Cipher.”

__

He turned back around briefly to flip the demon off. “I always will.”

__

The door slammed and Bill turned to a white faced Mabel. “Well, that was interesting! What else is in the house?” Mabel narrowed her eyes. “Remember our deal. You can only go where I go. And no basement.” The demon whined loudly but complied. “Seriously, Pine Tree really is annoying! So much testosterone radiating off of him! Plus, his voice is really weird.”

__

The older twin sighed, brushing a lock of auburn hair away from her face. “It’s called puberty, Bill. It means people are growing up, and changing.”

__

“Yeah, well, that kid is still annoying as fu-”

__

Bill was jolted out of his own memories as footsteps clomped up the stairs. “Dipper, honey? I made cookies!” Grunkle Stan’s voice called out. Bill shuddered as he sealed the circle, drawing a final triangle in the middle.

The demon had just enough time to conceal himself as the fake Stan opened the door, smiling broadly, an apron tied around his waist as he held out a platter of freshly steaming chocolate chip cookies. “Dipper? You asleep?” The fake Stan chirped, walking towards the teenager’s bed. “Well, it’s time to wakey wa-agh!” The man hissed as his flesh bubbled and burned. The plate was shattered in pieces on the floor, the cookies crushed into gooey bits. The fake Stan looked at the sleeping boy again, wariness crossing his face. “Interesting…,” He murmured, walking around the bed, giving it a wide berth. “…Someone has been here!” The man whispered, absentmindedly peeling his bubbling skin off, not even flinching as blood began to drip to the floor.

_That is so gross._

How the hell do you keep getting out of your designated space in the back of my head, old man?

_It’s not that hard._

It should be impossible!

_Shut up, the other me is looking this way._

And the old man was right- his double was staring directly at the spot where Bill was standing. Impossible, he should be cloaked right now. His magic was the best, rivaling only to M- “Why, hello there!” The fake Stan said, his eyes widening. “Oh, shit.” Bill muttered.

_Exactly what I was thinking,_ Stan hissed.

Dipper stirred in his bed, mumbling slightly as his eyes began to flutter open. “W-whas goin’ on?” he slurred, blinking blearily. Bill winced. What a sight this must be. Dipper’s eyes blew wide open, and his mouth opened and closed like a fishes. “What the-? Grunkle Stan, your hand is hurt? What happened?”

The fake Stan turned and smiled at him. “It’s okay, Dipper. Come over here and we’ll go fix things up.” Bill hissed and curled his fingers. “Don’t do it, Pine Tree! That is not your Grunkle.” Dipper looked back and forth between the two men, uncertainty clouding his eyes. He should trust his Grunkle- but something about him did seem off, with the strange, dead look in his eyes. And then there was Bill, the weird, flame slinging stranger was looking at him with genuine alarm in his eyes. It made his head hurt, which reminded him that he had been unconscious.

This was such a screwed up day.

“I’m staying in bed, actually.” Dipper said firmly, pulling the sheets up over his head. “I’m tired and you’re both annoying and I seriously hope I’m dreaming.”

At that, Bill let out a strangled bark that might have been laughter, and Dipper pulled the sheets back down briefly to glare at him before pulling them back over his head. “Shut up, will you? I’m trying to sleep.”

_He never was a morning person, if he ever did end up falling asleep._

I know, Stanley. I was always watching.

_Weirdo._

What else was I supposed to do in that town?

_Maybe not try to kill everyone? That sounds like a good idea…_

The bickering stopped immediately as the fake Grunkle Stan made a wet, choking noise that sounded like a cat trying to throw up a huge hairball.

_Gross,_ Stan muttered.

The fake Grunkle Stan growled, and for an instant his face flickered like a staticky television screen and Bill caught a glimpse of a deep deep black, inky and endless. It was a soul stain, he realized. Something- or someone was pulling the strings here.

_What’s a soul stain?_ Stan asked, curiosity seeping into his tone.

It’s like a footprint or a stain. They mainly show up when demons or other higher intelligence creatures tamper with the minds of humans or other life forms. In other words, it’s when other minds leave marks of themselves behind. In this case-Bill squinted and caught a flash of black again-this thing’s mind is completely black.

Bill remembered the black presence that had invaded his mind not too long ago and fought another body convulsion- shivering, wasn’t it? And that black mass that had attempted to do something with Dippers head… Black was becoming quite the theme in his Pine Tree’s mind.

“You aren’t welcome here.” The fake Stan rasped, his eyes bulging. “This does not belong to you.” The low, grating voice made Dipper shudder underneath the covers. Something was off today. It almost didn’t seem real, and he kept feeling like there was something that they should remember. It was on the tip of his tongue, so close… he froze when he heard a snarl that sounded very Grunkle-like. He slowly began to pull the sheets off his head, but stopped when Bill called out.

“I’d suggest you don’t look, kid. Unless you want another headache and severe psychological trauma.”

Undeterred, the teen tried to pull the covers off his head to no avail. “What the hell, Bill?” He yelled as he realized that the blanket had cocooned him completely, letting him see nothing. “Trust me, kid!” Bill yelled as the sound of snarling filled the room.

A memory flashed through Dipper’s mind “Trust me, kid!” Bill said loudly, holding out a blazing blue hand. Let’s make a d-”

Dipper winced as he felt the beginnings of another headache begin to form. What’s wrong with me? What are all these… images? They can’t be mine, so whose are they? he thought, wincing as a sizzling noise penetrated his ears, followed by the sickly smell of burnt flesh. The teenager breathed through his mouth, desperately kicking at the blanket and trying not to gag.

Bill, on the other hand, was having a great time. It had been two days since he had last been able to go out and kill something, anything, and he grinned manically as the fake Grunkle Stan howled in pain. Really, it was all too easy to pretend that the fake Grunkle was the real one.

_Wow, so sorry you didn’t get the chance to off me._ Stan said sarcastically, a slight tone of horror in his voice as he watched his other self burn.

I think I’ll live without that pleasure. Bill thought back as he nimbly kicked the fake Grunkle in the crotch, leaving him howling with rage. It didn’t even really look remotely human anymore- the face was twisted grotesquely, black slime oozing from the corners of the fake Grunkles eyes and mouth. The other Grunkle’s hands were twisted into claws, and the tips of his fingers were a dead, brittle black.

The demon felt the soul shudder in the back of his mind, and he smiled. “Come on, old man, this is fun!” he pushed the other Grunkle towards the bed and laughed when the creatures back sizzled like meat in a frying pan. “Oops!”

_You’re disgusting._

“You bet I aaaam!” Bill sang aloud, wiping black slime from his hands. “Hey, Pine Tree, I think your Grunkle is-,” He froze as a set of claws tore through his jacket, barely missing his fragile skin. The demon turned slowly. “Did you just rip my jacket?” He said, his voice reverberating and echoing in the small attic room. Red light pulse from the demons eye. “You ripped my jacket and now I’m going to rip you.”

Grunkle Stan winced as the other Grunkle/creature was mercilessly ripped apart. The demon had some serious anger issues, among others, and it was at that moment that the soul was glad he had made a deal with Bill Cipher.

Dipper wasn’t really paying attention, however. Little pictures were flashing quickly past his eyes, and he could barely keep up with them as he fought against the rising pressure in his head.

He watched himself stab himself in the arm with forks, flinching at the bright yellow of his own eye-

__

“-appy fifteenth birthday!” Stan, Soos, and Wendy chorused, holding out a large but badly iced cake to the twins, who laughed. In the corner, unbeknownst to those holding the cake, Bill floated, watching the festivities. Dipper made eye contact with the demon and nodded grudgingly. Mabel looked over and Dipper and smi-

__

-nowflakes fell around him and he watched his breath float out in frozen clouds. He looked over at the demon who was watching the snow melt around his body as it fell. “Merry Christmas, Bi-

__

-woke up and felt extremely embarrassed. What kind of person dreamt about that? He winced as he got out of the bathroom and splashed water on his face. Dipper really hoped Bill wasn’t always watching. If so, the demon would never let Dipper life it down. He was really going to have to get better at guarding his thoug-

__

Dipper moaned in relief as the images stopped. A cool, tingling sensation ran up his spine, and a warm hand was pressed against his forehead. He opened his eyes and squeaked as his eyelashes brushed Bill’s nose. “Sorry!” He muttered, backing away from the very warm hand.

The man looked at him and shrugged. “Well, Pine Tree, I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

The teenager looked at the other angrily. “I’d rather know that you’re some weirdo that throws fire and- where’s my Grunkle?”

Bill looked down sheepishly. “Yikes… I really can’t find a way out of this. I mean, your memories are screwed up enough already, and I can’t have you knowing now…” The man grabbed the sides of Dipper's head and Dipper tried to move away, but Bill held on tight.

“Sorry, Pine Tree, but I need to keep you alive and sane. Even if that means erasing a couple key things from your memory vault.”

“Bill-?” was the last thing the boy mumbled, reaching a hand towards the others face, touching Bill’s cheek momentarily before unconsciousness rose up once again to meet him. His hand fell limply to his side.

I really need to stop passing out.

The last thing he noticed was that instead of his vision going black, it went blue. A bright, brilliant blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovelies!  
> Hope you enjoy this chapter, had a lot of fun writing "Stan", let me know in the comments what you think, it really helps and boosts me and my editor's motivation ^^  
> Thanks to annakozume for editing!  
> ~Fiddle


	4. Shards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=psuRGfAaju4

The demon exhaled slowly as Dipper’s breathing evened out, his chest rising and falling. Closing his eyes, Bill began to silently construct a barrier around the house, one that would keep out everything except for Pine Tree. Stuff could get in, of course, but only if Pine Tree gave them permission.

“He won’t remember a thing about what just happened.” Bill paused. “But he will remember me. And Shooting Star.”

_Won’t that just make cause him pain?_

“Obviously I didn’t include the fire or the screwed up version of you.”

_Oh. So, what now?_

Bill ran a gloved hand through his hair, sighing. “You’re not going to like this, old man.”

_I don’t like a lot of things, Cipher. What do you have in mind?_

“Well, we need someone who specializes in the supernatural- we need an expert and to be honest the only person I can think of is F-,”

_No. No. He is dead, Cipher. He is dead and he is gone. I tried for years, Bill. It’s impossible to bring anyone back from the dead._

“There’s a way to bring the dead back, old man. There always is- humans can just never let go, it seems.”

Bill looked down at his Pine Tree’s face, noting how peaceful he looked in his sleep. He was never serene while he was awake. Nothing was really fun in that shit town without his Pines twins. He needed to get them both back on their feet- well, not Shooting Star- so that he could go back to annoying the two with his usual annoying antics.

He didn’t want to see Ford, not after all these years. He had needed something from Ford, needed it desperately, and the demon had done what he had to do in order to obtain that. Even if that meant having to reciprocate Ford’s feelings. Bill felt empty towards the man.

However, when it came to Pine Tree, he felt something a little different. It was an odd feeling, and it made him stop dead sometimes when he was in his true form. Sometimes, Bill had sworn he could feel a heart beating inside of him, even though he didn’t have a heart. No demon did.

It was a conundrum, truthfully speaking. The feeling both attracted and repulsed him, and often he didn’t want to feel it so he shoved it into the corner of his mind. Besides, he had better things to focus on than- whatever this was. It was only after he had possessed Pine Tree’s body four years ago, during Shooting Stars opera of footwear, had the feeling intensified. He had seen a lot of things inside of the younger twin's mind, and not all of them were happy or cheerful. The demon could easily recall the most embarrassing and painful moments of Pine Tree’s life, the earliest and clearest memory being bullied for his birthmark. While he watched older children draw all over Pine Tree’s little face with Sharpie, Bill couldn’t help but wonder why he was watching this. It shouldn’t have been particularity interesting to watch the boy cry as the other children began to kick him, and nor should his memories have been from that point.

Hell, he should have been laughing at the obvious humiliation and pain the kid was in. He didn’t, though, and that worried him. It had made him waver as he hunted around for Ford’s journal as he forced Shooting Star to hand it over. Bill remember wondering if he was losing his touch, or if there was something terribly wrong with him.

Ignore it, it’s not important. None of these meatsacks are. They don’t can’t even begin to fathom what’s going to happen to them all! He had told himself, assured.

Words, however, could not stop feelings. This was another problem for the demon. Demons didn’t feel emotion easily, and when they did, they manifested themselves in what humans called the seven deadly sins- greed, gluttony, lust, sloth, wrath, envy, and pride. Wrath and pride? That was something Bill had always felt. Demons experienced emotion much more so than humans that sometimes it literally overpowered them, often times driving them mad and unstable until they could go out and sate that emotion.

As the years passed by and Pine Tree and Shooting Star grew, so did that strange emotion, until one day it grew too large to be ignored. Bill simply couldn’t avoid it anymore, so he did what he had to do to lessen that emotion. He hung around the old house more, bothering everyone but not doing anything evil or insane- “A good change!” Shooting Star had chirped- until everyone was used to the triangle shaped demon being present most of the time. Even the old man had managed not to kill him, which had been surprising.

And it wasn’t like the time spent there hadn’t been useful- there were strange customs to observe, like birthdays and placing ugly ceramic Stan’s onto large evergreen trees- but Bill was struck again with how odd it was that he wasn’t doing anything. “I could be doing anything, kid. I can leave this town, destroy the world and do as I please,” he had said to Shooting Star in an odd moment of almost companionship, “So why am I still here?”

The older twin had looked him in the eye, uncharacteristically serious. “Maybe it’s because you want to be here, Bill. Even demons can be lonely, right?”

“I’ve never heard of a case like that, kid.” Bill had muttered, kicking his small feet in the air.

The girl had giggled, scooping up her pig and rubbing its belly. “Well, then, maybe you’re the first!”

The demon didn’t want to be the first, though. Bill was just fine with the way he was, with his existence. He wasn’t missing anything. He didn’t want anything but what was normal of demons his class- death, pain and fear. “I don’t want to be first,” Bill said aloud, still looking down at the sleeping eighteen year old.

_Excuse me?_ Stan said in mild amusement.

“Nothing. As I was saying, there’s an extremely dangerous and complex ritual, and the last one went fabulously-,”

_What do you mean by ‘fabulous’, exactly?_

The demon chuckled at the memory. “It was great! Not only did the corpse grow back half of its body, the couple working the ritual just exploded! Like two ripe tomatoes! Brain matter everywhere! And the one before that was even better, this guy’s leg just melted-,”

_Okay, that’s enough, thanks. If I still had a body I think I’d be throwing up._

“You asked first! Anyways, we’re going to need some ingredients. I’m probably going to need Shooting Star's help with that. We should leave now, anyways. My presence attracts other unsavory beings- kind of like Shooting Star to sugar.

_Okay,_ Stan said. _Let’s go. But… can you really bring my bro-Fo- him back?_

“Definitelyprobablymaybe!” Bill said cheerfully, casually brushing the boy’s bangs away from his forehead. He spotted a half chewed pen and a mangled pad of sticky notes on the drawer beside the bed, and grabbed it. Half of him was asking what the hell he was doing, but the other half cheerfully scribbled onto the notepad, peeled the top one off and stuck it directly over Pine Tree’s birthmark. Stepping back, the demon shook his head, reeling slightly. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

_A lot of things, Cipher, but this is by far the weirdest. And nicest. I didn’t know that you were so-_

“Shut up, Stanley.” Bill growled, forcing his body to turn away from the bed. He hadn’t expected this kind of complication to occur in this human body- it was like he had no control, like his emotions were amplified in this hunk of meat and bone and nerve endings. And even worse, he could feeling that emotion, the abnormal one, heavy inside of him, just underneath his rib cage. It made him feel… well… It almost made him want to throw up. “Disgusting,” The blonde muttered, closing his eyes and reaching out for a door that could connect him to Shooting Star's hospital bedroom.

_Come again?_

“I said, disgusting.”

_I totally agree. You are disgusting. Just horrendous!_

“That’s it. You’re going to be quiet for a little while unless you want me to absorb you into my being and blow up the entire world- but not before I play in the bloody entrails of the citizens of Gravity Falls.”

…

“Ah, blessed silence.” The demon purred as an oak door appeared in the middle of the attic. “Now, let’s go grab our star!” He wrenched open the door and was halfway through it before he looked back, casting a lingering glance at the sleeping brunette on the bed. “Damn it!” Bill hissed, fists clenching. “What is wrong with this body?”

In the recesses of the dream demon’s mind, Stan couldn’t help but observe that Bill Cipher was very much acting the part of pre-crush Mabel. Stan couldn’t help wonder if this new development was a good or a bad thing. It doesn’t look like Cipher's gonna figure himself out anytime soon, though.

“What did I say about talking?” Bill thundered as he forced himself through the door.

Stan remained silent.

....

The attic was eerily quiet; Dipper’s breathing was noisy as he opened his eyes. Propping himself up onto one elbow, he realized that night had already fallen, and that someone had turned on his lamp, washing the room in a soft golden hue. Mild alarm cut through him as he remembered a girl- Mabel-smiling at him. “Bill was here too…” Dipper whispered. He blushed slightly at the fuzzy memory of his closeness to the other teenager. Bill was a teenager, wasn’t he? He didn’t look a day over nineteen. Shaking his head to dispel the cobwebs, Dipper sat up, yawning.

“Grunkle Stan?” he called groggily. The lack of response roused the eighteen year old from the warmth of his bed and out his bedroom door. “Grunkle Stan?” He called out again, listening for a reply but only heard the creaking of the old house. Dipper padded to the bathroom, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He bent over the sink, twisting the faucet, then froze as he met his own eyes in the mirror. “What the hell,” Dipper mumbled, staring at the sticky note on his forehead with disbelief. Squinting at the elegant writing, he groaned in frustration. “Why can’t I read this?” Blinking, he stared at it until comprehension hit him, pushing any remaining sleepiness away. “Duh. I’m such an idiot.” He turned away from the mirror, rolling his eyes at his stupidity. Dipper pulled the yellow paper off of his forehead and read it.

Pine Tree-

If it counts for anything, I am extremely fond of your birthmark. If possible, I would rip it off of your forehead and carry it around with me.

Don’t let anyone inside the house until I come back. I’ll explain everything later. I know that you don’t remember much of me, but you have to trust me on this.

Bill.

“Extremely fond of your birthmark?” Dipper said slowly, a faint blush rising up in his cheeks. What an odd thing to bring up. He barely knew the guy, and he didn’t remember talking about his birthmark to him… Dipper snorted as he read on. “Let’s take the ‘rip it off of you part’ as a compliment.” The brunette felt a smile slowly spreading across his face due to that. How odd. For some reason, it seemed that Bill actually meant that he would do that if he could, but that would just be weird and borderline insane.

Reflexively pulling his bangs, a habit created from years of self-consciousness and humiliation due to cruel schoolmates, the teenager read on, ignoring the hotness of his cheeks.

“Don’t let anyone inside the house?” Dipper exclaimed, his shoulders tensing reflexively as he read and reread the sentence. “What is that supposed to mean? What’s going on?” He muttered to himself, his brain racing a thousand miles an hour as paranoia crept up on him, weighing heavily on his shoulders. The more Dipper thought about it, the more he could sense that something was off today- it wasn’t Bill or the slightly awkward note- in fact, there was something wrong about the atmosphere of the Shack.

Sure, the building was old and slightly decrepit, but it had always had a cozy and warm feel to it, like an old friend. Now, it was dark and cold, almost foreign. When had everything felt so off? When had the old house felt so dark? Glancing out of the bathroom, Dipper shuddered at the darkness that seemed to gather in the corners of the hallway. Clutching the note tightly to his chest, he raced down the dark hallway to his bedroom, shuddering at the almost painful feel of his bare feet on the cold wooden floorboards. It felt like the house was closing in on him like a mouse trapped in the gut of a snake, ready to squeeze the life out of him; it ready to strangle him and choke him.

Dipper slammed his bedroom door behind him, panting. He sank down to the floor, breathing a sigh of relief as he gazed around his familiar bedroom. The window next to his bed was dark, and from where Dipper sat, it looked like a gigantic mouth ready to devour him. The teenager practically leapt to the window in his haste to cover it with a curtain. His hands paused, buried in the curtains. Dipper looked at the circular window, brow furrowed. “I thought that this window was in the shape of a… triangle,” He whispered to himself. The brunette’s head pulsed slightly as his thoughts immediately went to Bill. Why did his mind immediately go to Bill? Once again, he was hit with how absolutely wrong this house felt, and how incorrect it was of this window not to be a triangle. “What’s going on?” Dipper whispered, closing the curtains with shaking hands. Exhaling shakily, he smoothed out the now crumpled sticky note and reread it.

“He’s coming back…” Dipper told himself. Somehow, that thought comforted him. His rational side spoke up in protest of that. Why should the prospect of a near stranger coming back-no-breaking back into his house make him feel comforted? He barely knew Bill, and now the other man was telling him to trust him and to stay in the house- was he really going to listen? Shouldn’t Dipper know better than to listen to random weird strangers who stuck post it notes to his forehead?

“I don’t know, yes, and yes,” The teenager muttered aloud to himself, pulling his comforter up around his shoulders as he sat down on the bed. He didn’t know why, but he felt like he should trust Bill. The man felt so familiar and trusting him felt so right. His gut instinct wasn’t complaining, either. “Okay, I’ll wait. I can wait until you come back. I’ll trust you. Oh my god, I’m going crazy. I’m talking to myself. This is bad.” I’ll listen to some music, Dipper thought, reaching out for the drawer where he kept his phone and earbuds. His hand froze as a loud knock on a door from the downstairs entrance reached his ears. “Shit!” Dipper gasped, his thoughts whirling. Should he go down and answer? No, that was stupid! Someone coming to the Shack minutes after Dipper had read that note? That couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Hey, Dipper, are you in there?” A voice warbled sweetly. Dipper tensed farther, fear coiling in his stomach. It was just Wendy, he told himself. Just Wendy, as she’s always been. The knocking intensified, and Wendy called out again. “Dip-per! Don’t you want to come and hang out? A new dress shop just opened in town and I need a second pair of eyes to help me pick one out!

“Go ask Mabel,” Dipper froze as soon as the whispered sentence exited his mouth. His head pulsed painfully again, and he blinked slowly, confusion filling him. Why had he just said that? He didn’t know Mabel at all! She was just-

Your sister.

“What the hell?” He exclaimed loudly, hissing as another wave of pain rolled through his head. The teen clasped his hands over his mouth immediately after, wincing as Wendy stopped knocking. “Dipper? Is that you?” She called, sounding bubbly and chipper. The sense of wrongness bloomed again in his stomach at the sound of her voice. Wendy shouldn’t like dresses or be chipper and bubbly. She liked exploring and adventures and she had helped Dipper in his first summer at Gravity Falls when he was trying to discover the mysteries surrounding the town- Dipper hissed at the new thoughts running through his head, pressing his palms against his temples to get relief from the pain. However different, the new thoughts, that different Wendy felt right. The Wendy banging on his door demanding to go dress shopping felt so wrong. Finally the pain subsided, but the banging on the door didn’t. “C’mon Dipper, I don’t have all day!” Dipper furrowed his brow. Reaching out to the curtain, he pulled up a corner and peered out it. Black as ink. He pulled his phone out of his drawer and pressed the home button, wincing at the brightness of the screen.

3:33 AM.

Something was definitely not right.

He stared at his phone, wondering if he had always had a triangular wallpaper for the home screen. His head prickled slightly as he threw his phone onto the bed before slipping on a sweater, noting that the temperature of the house seemed to have dropped.

Dipper crept to his bedroom door, pulling it open as silently as he could. Peering over the banister at the top of the stairs, he could just make out the front door. The light from the front porch spilled under the crack in the door and through the glass panes on either side of the door, casting a humanoid shadow on the interior of the house. The brunette shuddered as he crept carefully down the stairs, the sounds of any loose or creaky boards masking by the rhythmic pounding of fists on the doors. Finally, Dipper stood directly in front of the door which was vibrating from the strength of the knocking.

Peering through the eyehole, he began to breathe again. The teen had been expecting a terrifying monster with Wendy’s voice, but it was just the familiar looking redhead. She looks so… chipper, though. That felt wrong. Wasn’t Wendy usually chirpy and bubbly? No, his heart and gut told him, while his head said yes.

Swallowing thickly, he backed away from the door slowly until he reached the foot of the stairs. “Wendy?” He called out, trying to sound groggy. The knocking stopped. “Sorry Dipper, did I wake you up from your nap?”

“Yeah, kind of. What’s up?” Dipper said, trying to mask the panic and fear that was sitting like a stone in his stomach.

“Oh, a new dress store opened up and I was wondering if you wanted to come with? I was thinking that we could grab you a couple of new shirts as well.”

Dipper shuddered at the sweet tone of her voice. “Wow… uh, that sounds fun, but Wendy? It’s kind of, you know, three thirty in the morning?” Wendy giggled, but it sounded so awful to Dippers ears that he instinctively covered them. “Oh, whoops! I probably should have checked the time! I was just so excited! Sorry, Dipper.”

The brunette let out a sigh of relief, only to tense again as the redhead spoke. “Hey, I was wondering if I could come in? I really need to use the washroom.” Okay, now that was causing all the alarm bells to go off in Dipper’s head. Well, more alarm bells than he already had going off. “Uh, no can do, Wendy. I’m kind of tired and you’re acting… a little weird.”

Silence.

Dipper’s breathing sounded unnaturally loud in the silence, and he swallowed and wiped his clammy hands on his fleece pants.

“Dipper,” Wendy began, “You should really let me in.” Her voice dropped a couple octaves at the last word, causing a harsh rasping sound. When the teenager didn’t reply, Wendy spoke again, her voice still unnatural and distorted. “Let me in, Dipper! Don’t make me break the door down!” She nearly screamed, her voice rising so high in pitch that the words were barely discernable. Dipper flinched and forced his heavy, leaden limbs to carry him back up the stairs to his room. He stumbled several times, his head ringing from Wendy’s continuous screaming and his stomach aching from fear.

“Please make it stop,” he whimpered, his hand fumbling for the knob on his bedroom door. “Please stop, I can’t think, please-,” he slammed his door shut and leapt for the phone on the bed while reaching one hand into his drawer, desperately grabbing for his earbuds. Dipper let out a muffled whimper of relief as he plugged the earbuds into his phone and hit the play button. A melancholy, electro beat song began to play and he jumped slightly. This wasn’t his playlist- hell, he’d never heard the song before! Trying to keep his mind off of the shrill screaming, he unlocked his phone and went to ‘Now Playing’.

“Fireflies?” Dipper muttered, confused. “When did this get on here?” His eyes flickered towards the top of the screen and his eyes widened. The playlist name, filled with heart emoji’s, said in all caps:

DIPDOP’S SLEEP PLAYLIST11!! SO HE WON’T CHEW HIS SHIRT AT NIGHT ! ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　 

Dipper let out an incredulous laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” No one else knew that he lay awake sleepless most nights, and that when he did he woke up with his shirt in his mouth. So how did this playlist get on here? Was someone watching him sleep? Someone who knew his password-

Your sister.

Dipper jumped at the reverberating thought, head pulsing. “Stop doing that!” He growled as the pain in his head intensified. The banging on the door from downstairs grew louder, and Dipper automatically turned the volume of his phone all the way up, causing his eardrums to vibrate. His hands were shaking, and he buried them in the comforter as he listened to the music.

I'd like to make myself believe

That planet Earth turns slowly

It's hard to say that I'd rather stay awake when I'm asleep

'Cause everything is never as it seems

When I fall asleep

The music helped some, but Dipper knew that Wendy was still at the door and that she was still banging and screaming and the house still wanted to devour him and honestly Dipper didn’t know how long he could wait for Bill. Relaxing, he let his eyes flutter shut.

Bad idea.

A tapping at the window made his eyes fly right back open. “It’s nothing. It’s probably nothing. It’s a tree branch. It’s-,” He screamed as Wendy’s voice whispered through the window. “All you have to do is say yes, Dipper. Just say yes and let me IN!”

“Stop!” Dipper yelled, his heart beating like a hummingbirds, his nerves frayed. “Just. Stop!” He covered his head with his pillow, but Wendy was still audible even through the music.

“Let me in, let me in, let me in, let me in, let me in, let me in, letmeinletmeinletmeinletmeinletmein”

Dipper shuddered, his fingers pulling the pillow tightly over his ears, teeth gritted. “Please hurry back, Bill. Please come back…”

.....

Mabel was missing, or so the nurses informed him apologetically. “We have notified the police- we still can’t tell if someone took her or if she left on her own,” a short, fat nurse notified him, his hands shaking as he stared up at Bill.

Damn these human bodies! I’d have to leave it if I want to locate Shooting Star and I can’t have that! I need this body.

_I think she’ll be fine._

It’s an inconvenience, Stanley. It’s annoying.

Bill growled, raking his hands through his hair. “This is annoying.” Whirling on the nurse, he pointed a gloved finger. “I will be in Mr. Pines’ room. When she returns, let me know immediately.”

Eyes narrowed, the nurse had a moment of bravado. “I don’t take orders from you.”

Stan mentally winced as the demon’s eye visibly reddened. The nurse swallowed as Bill bent down slowly until he was practically nose to nose with him. Bill spoke, his voice a growl. “You. Do. Now.”

The other man shuddered as the demon’s pupil shrank until it was a sliver in a sea of red. “Y-Yes sir.”

Drawing back, Bill smiled, patting the nurse’s shoulder. He flinched, then scurried off. The demon grinned as he made his way to Dipper’s hospital room. “I love breaking their spirits. It’s just so… refreshing!”

_You are a truly twisted person._

“Stanley Pines, was that a compliment?”

_Forget it._

“So, as soon as Shooting Star gets back I’ll go with her to get the necessary ingredients. Most of them are in this deadbeat town, but there are a couple I’ll have to get myself. Also, we’ll need blood of some kind. Preferably human-,” Bill’s eye widened and he turned around in the direction the nurse had went. “Say, Stanley, how about-,”

_No._

“Not even a little-,”

_Don’t._

“I won’t kill him! Just drain most of his-,”

_Nope._

Bill pouted as he opened the door to Pine Tree’s room. “Ugh, you are such a killjoy, old man. I don’t understand why Shooting Star and Pine Tree found you so fun-,” the demon froze as the door opened. “Shit!” He practically ran to Dipper’s bed, his eye wide. “I didn’t think that we’d encounter something like this so soon- this is not good.”

_What is it? Is something wrong?_ Stan said loudly, alarm apparent in his voice.

“Sheesh, keep it down in there! No, there’s nothing wrong here, take a look at your grandnephew! Doesn’t he look just fine?” Bill snapped, voice dripping with sarcasm as he peeled off his velvet gloves and laid his bare hands over Dipper’s face.

Stan muttered, taking in the sleeping teenager’s sweaty face and panicked, gasping breaths. The brunette flinched in his sleep, whimpering quietly. Bill hissed in alarm and pulled his hands away from the other’s burning forehead. “There’s no avoiding it. I need to go back. Stanley, I need you to shut up. Can you handle that?”

Stan bristled but gave his assent.

Bill winced as his forehead cracked against Dipper’s in his haste to enter the other’s mindscape. “That’s going to bruise. Sorry, kid.” He muttered, closing his eyes. He sorted through the blackness frantically, a new emotion filling him. “Come on, kid, come on…,”

He let out a shaky sigh as he found the boy’s mind and entangled his net over it, mixing the blue and rose color to a light purple. There was no time to admire the brunette’s mindscape this time-Bill snapped his fingers and found himself outside of the Shack. It looked darker this time, more cold and unfriendly. That was the only difference from before-that and the blood curdling screaming filling the empty air.

“This is bad, bad news,” Bill growled, his fingernails elongating into black claws. “I don’t think I can handle this one in this human body. I’d have to leave this meat sack, but I don’t know how long it can go without a host.” The demon snarled, smoke literally coming out of his nose. “I hate it when things don’t go my way.” Snapping his fingers, Bill teleported himself inside the house. The screaming filled what would have been menacing silence, and the demon inwardly marveled at how hateful the old house looked. Black shadows shifted in the corner of the blonde’s eye and he snapped his fingers, illuminating the house with bright blue flame.

“Well, at least I know where Pine Tree is,” Bill muttered to himself as well as Stan; “He’s where the screaming is.” Closing his eye, he made his way up the old, rickety stairs. The screaming intensified the closer to the attic he got, and Bill snarled. “There’s no way that anything should have been able to get near the house. Whatever this thing is, it’s powerful, and it’s old.” Walking up the second set of stairs, Bill walked to the end of the small hallway, stopping in front of the second last door. The screaming was loudest here, and now that Bill was closest to the source he could hear a broken sobbing, and the sound of it was enough to cause Bill pain. It’s because of the deal, the blonde thought to himself as both his hands lit up with blue fire, it’s because I’m bound to protect this kid that his pain hurts me. That’s all.

The deal, however, was no excuse for the overwhelming anger he felt boiling inside of him towards whatever was making Pine Tree cry. His Pine Tree. “Only I get to make him cry,” Bill snarled, kicking down the door and causing collected dust to sift down from the rafters. The screaming still continued, and that only pissed the demon off more, causing his eye to redden and bathe the small room with crimson light. “Shut. Up!” He roared, ripping the curtains off of the rod, coming face to face with- “Red?” Bill muttered, staring at the wild-eyed, snarling girl. “He wouldn’t let me in,” Wendy hissed, practically pressing her face into the window, fogging it up. “He wouldn’t let me in so now I have to wait for him!”

Never mind. This wasn’t Red. This was just like the weirdo pseudo Stanley he had killed earlier. Just like fake Stan, but stronger. A lot stronger. Strong enough that Bill couldn’t kill it without a) leaving his human body, which he was not willing to do, and b) take down the protection spell that was keeping Red out as well as protecting his Pine Tree from other things like Red. “So, I’m at a standstill,” Bill snarled, his eye enlarging. “I will not let you in, nor will Pine Tree. Either leave, or shut the hell up so I can think.” With a snap of his fingers, wood covered the glass window seamlessly.

The demon waited for the screaming to start up again, but it didn’t. “Thank god,” He muttered, running his still fire wreathed hands through his hair, humming at the cool tingling sensation. Bill turned towards the bed next to the boarded up window, his stomach feeling as heavy as lead. There was a ball in the center of it, blankets and quilts covering it completely, and as Bill made his way towards it he notices that it was shaking.

“Aw, shit kid.” He murmured, gently grabbing the corner of the quilt and pulling it up slowly. The shaking intensified and the demon exhaled softly before ripping the entire blanket off. Bill blinked slowly, staring at the curled up teenager in the middle of the bed, arms wrapped around himself, hair and face sweaty from the stifling heat of all the blankets. His Pine Tree had his eyes squeezed shut, jaw clenched as tears slid silently down his cheeks and onto the mattress.

Music was coming from somewhere and Bill realized it was from the long white tendrils extending from a phone going into the teenagers ears. He reached over and pulled it out, flinching at the loud noise. “Geez kid, you had this in your ears? How’s your hearing?” The demon speculated, poking at the white tendrils. When he got no response, he looked over to see the teenager still in the same position, still shaking.

“What the hell do I do about this, Stanley?” He muttered under his breath, awkwardly sitting on the edge of the bed.

_Don’t ask me._

“Ugh.” Tentatively, the demon reached out and placed a hand onto Pine Tree’s blazing forehead. The teenager shuddered, then exhaled. “Ew, you’re so sweaty,” Bill hummed, carding his hand through the other teenager’s thick hair with his right hand. With his left, he summoned a small blue flame and blew on it, causing it to fragment into small pieces and spread to all corners of the room, illuminating it gently. A hot hand grabbed his right arm and the demon froze, returning his attention to the boy.

Pine Tree looked terrible, his face red and shiny, his eyes puffy and cheeks still wet from tears. His hand shook against Bill’s arm, and seeing his Pine Tree in pain made him slightly euphoric, but that euphoria was overpowered by some other emotion he couldn’t put a finger on. Pine Tree swallowed, blinking fast as tears began to pool in his eyes again.

Panic rose inside of Bill. Had he done something wrong? “Uh, Pine Tr-,”

“You came for me.”

Pine Tree’s voice was raspy and hoarse, wobbly from the crying. Bill looked away. “It’s nothing kid. I said I would, didn’t I?” The other teenager nodded, tears beginning to slip down his cheeks again.

“I almost said yes. I wanted- I wanted it to stop, she just keep screaming and whispering for hours and I-I thought you w-weren’t-,” He started sobbing again, and Bill fidgeted awkwardly. He’d never had to deal with a crying Pine Tree. Angry Pine Tree? Easy. Hateful Pine Tree? Piece of cake. But sitting beside a sobbing Pine Tree was something Bill had never had to deal with.

His hands were still on Bill’s arm, and Bill noted that they were shaking harder than before. “Screw it,” the demon muttered, before grabbing the back of Pine Tree’s head and pulling it into his chest. He adjusted his legs so that Pine Tree wasn’t leaning on them and awkwardly wrapped his arms around the shaking brunette. Humans did this to each other for comfort, right? Hugging.

The teenager froze, tensing slightly before practically melting into Bill’s chest, hands moving from his arm to clutch the fabric of his vest. Warmth filled the demon’s chest, and he hummed an old piece of music softly as he lifted his hand to gently card through the other teenager’s hair. This was actually quite nice, the demon thought. It was soothing-he could see why humans enjoyed it so much. Dipper sighed shakily into Bill’s vest, and the demon held back a shiver at the not entirely unpleasant hot breath on his neck. Pine Tree smelled like salt and cinnamon, and Bill resisted the urge to bury his nose in Pine Tree’s thick mass of auburn hair.

Weird. This felt weird. He’d never heard of a demon that had wanted to smell a mortal’s hair for reasons that didn’t include death and/or manipulative reasons. Maybe he really was losing his touch. Four years ago, he wouldn’t have dreamt of touching a human, much less hold one. ‘Filthy,’ he clearly remembered himself saying as he watched over the twelve year old Pines Twins. ‘Disgusting creatures.’ If only you could see yourself now, Cipher, Bill thought absentmindedly to himself as he ran his hand through the teenager’s hair. How weak you’d see me! The twins were a weakness. They were his Achilles heel, his only soft spot. In all truthfulness, both of the twins should have been dead now. Many other humans had died painfully and horribly for less offensive things, and here was Pine Tree, hugging him. A human hugging Bill Cipher, destructive dream demon.

To be honest, he didn’t feel very destructive at the moment. Not with the faint blue lights flickering softly and Pine Tree’s scent in the comforters and sheets lying tangled around them. That strange emotion came back and Bill resisted the urge to shudder.

It felt so… uncomfortable.

Move, Cipher, Bill told himself. You need to bring Ford back, and make sure that Shooting Star is safe. You need to wake Pine Tree up. The demon looked at the arm that wasn’t holding the other teenager and willed it to move. “Mooooove.” He whined, earning a confused look from the brunette. “No, not you, kid.”

Dipper huffed and plonked his head back down onto Bill’s chest. Oh no. That was not good. His body was malfunctioning again. The demon reached up with his empty hand and touched his forehead gingerly. He must have come down with some sort of human illness, he was burning up… His stomach was churning too-perhaps he needed more nutrition? Bill leaned into the pillows, the weight of Dipper’s head burning a massive hole straight through his chest. Everything was really cool against his skin; the pillowcases, the sheets. Pine Tree’s fingers curled into his vest-

Bill clapped a hand over his mouth as the feelings in his stomach intensified. “Oh, my god!” Dipper looked up at him quizzically. “What’s wrong?”

The demon practically fell out of the bed in his haste to get up. “I- I think I’m going to throw up…” He steadied himself against the side of Pine Tree's desk. The heat in his cheeks wouldn't go away. It was extremely uncomfortable. 

Dipper smirked as he sat up, the sheets tangling around his legs. 

“Wow, really funny Bi-oh my God, not on my phone!”

Yep, he was definitely coming down with something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bill is dumb dumb dumb.....  
> We get to see Ford next chapter... maybe.... ;) 
> 
> I'll post a chapter as much as I can with school from now on.... *sweats nervously*  
> Thanks to annakozume for being the best beta.  
> Comments and kudos always appreciated!


	5. Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexually confused ft. Gravedrigger, Bill being Bill.

In hindsight, trying to sneak out of the hospital was a bad idea. It had been great at first; Mabel had greedily breathed in the crisp mid-winter air as Paz pushed her wheelchair and the Northwest limo escorted them to the mall, but after that, the familiar haunting grounds had made Mabel feel steadily more and more depressed. There’s that stupid meat bar that Grunkle Stan loved, and to the left is the pizza place where the animatronics tried to kill Dipper, Soos, Melody and I… Everywhere Mabel had looked, every sound of _normalness_ had made Mabel want to scream out loud. The stares and whispers that reached her ears from passerby had made her want to curl up and go to Sweater-Town, a place that she hadn’t visited in years. Also, her head hurt. A lot. “Paz?” She had whispered, catching the blonde’s attention. “Mm?”

“Can we just go? It’s… suffocating in here.”

And so they had left the same way they had come, a couple bags of art supplies in tow. Mabel had been fighting back tears while Pacifica slid one of the leather seats back so her wheelchair could fit in the back. Would she always feel so uncomfortable? She had used to love riding and driving in cars, but now they terrified her, and Mabel had to keep a very firm grip on her emotions to remain calm. It was all too much. Now, in the back of the limo, Pacifica quietly playing with pieces of Mabel’s long hair, Mabel let her emotions overwhelm her. Turning her face towards the tinted window, she let out a quiet sigh.

Things couldn’t get much worse than this- Dipper surely wouldn’t wake up without Bill’s help, and Bill hadn’t sought her out since her last jaunt in the Mindscape with him. She felt like some stupid minor character in the Wizard Of Oz, walking down some foggy brick road, off to see the wizard for a gift. Oh, Wizard, could you gift me some working legs? How long had it been without the use of her legs? A week, maybe a week and a half? Already, she missed the feeling of running, of dipping her toes into the frigid water of the lake and the feeling of soft grass on the soles of her feet. Selfish, _selfish_ , she thought to herself, watching the muted scenery whiz by. Dipper in a coma, Grunkle Stan dead, and here you are-thinking about yourself yet again.

Hadn’t Bill said something about bringing Dipper back? Some sort of ritual… The demon was becoming more and more trustworthy in Mabel’s eyes, and the main reason for that was his attitude towards Dipper. Mabel knew about love, having devoured the magazines and quizzes in her youth, and all signs pointed to Bill being in love with Dipper. Well, as ‘in love’ as dangerous dream demons can get. The thing was, Bill didn’t even seem to realize it yet. In any other circumstance, Mabel would be terrified and disgusted, but now… well, now Bill had shown to her that he had some kind of human qualities in him. It was kind of cute, really. The only thing that worried Mabel was how Dipper was going to react when he found out Bill had a thing for him. Would he remember Bill if he woke up? Mabel stiffened. If? Am I already using if? Determination filled her, and she instinctively clenched her fists. Dipper is going to wake up, and she was going to make sure of it.

A small voice spoke up inside her, quiet but powerful. _And how are you going to achieve that if you’re the cripple you are right now?_ No. She couldn’t think like that. Her legs might not work, but her mind and soul still did. That was all she needed, right? Is it?

She closed her eyes, and Dipper’s pale face filled her mind, the tubes and needles around and inside of him doing their work. Mabel needed Bill. Bill needed Mabel. What would Bill ask for in exchange for a pair of working legs? Could he even do that?

The realization that it was just her and Dipper left in the Pines line made loneliness threaten to swallow her up. She wished that Grunkle Stan were here. He’d always made anywhere feel like home. Briefly, Mabel wondered when the funeral would be, and who would come. Wendy and Soos, for sure. They had visited as much as possible with their busy schedules and lives, but it wasn’t nearly enough for Mabel, who thrived on social interaction. Not that she craved it as much anymore, but still. Mabel had tried to do the schoolwork piled up on the floor beside her, but after she had absentmindedly asked Dipper for a hand in her Calculus homework, she had stopped trying to finish it. Everything she did hurt, simply because it was a painful reminder of how everything had been before it had all been torn apart. Some days, she didn’t even want to go on anymore, with the knowledge that she had ripped her family apart and the heaviness of her mangled legs almost pushing her over the edge.

The darkness inside of her mind was a constant presence, pushing at the corners of her mind, fraying her nerves and beating against her chest in angry waves. It made Mabel want to laugh sometimes. Who would have imagined the bubbly Mabel Pines, fighting off waves of self-hatred and depression? Not her, that’s for sure.

Pacifica’s visits, however, made the dark retreat for a while. At least Pacifica was still with her-but was she hanging out with Mabel out of friendship or out of pity? Pacifica reached out with both hands to gather Mabel’s thick hair, but stopped as Mabel flinched. “Sorry, Mabel. Are you..?”

Mabel shook her head, willing her voice to stay level. “It’s fine. Keep going.” Pacifica was really kind, much too kind to be hanging out with her. After all, Mabel had killed her own Grunkle.

“Mabel?” Said girl looked over to see the blonde’s face right next to hers. Pacifica’s eyelashes were really long, and they brushed Mabel’s cheeks as she blinked. What was that called? Oh right, butterfly kisses. A strange heat rose in Mabel’s cheeks as she replied. 

“Yeah?” 

Pacifica sighed and unbuckled her seatbelt, causing the driver to roll down the middle window. “Ms. Northwest, would you like me to pull over?”

Pacifica shrugged the seat belt off of her slim shoulder and waved her hand in dismissal. “No thanks, keep driving-,” she shot a quick look at Mabel- “Please.” The driver nodded and pulled the divider back up.

Mabel tilted her head as Pacifica scooched over to where Mabel and her chair sat. “Pacifica, what-,” She froze as the blonde wrapped her arms around Mabel, holding her tightly. Mabel melted as the other girl began to hold her, allowing herself to shed a few tears. Mabel returned the embrace and closed her eyes. Pacifica smelled like strawberries and cream, and her hair smelled like vanilla. Not wanting to be creepy, Mabel subtly turned her head so that she could smell Pacifica’s hair better. That’s still creepy, Mabel. She chided herself. Why was she so hyperaware of Pacifica’s hands on her back? Why did Pacifica smell so good? Why did she and Mabel fit so well together? And most importantly, why was she thinking about how Pacifica smelled?

Oh, hell no. Mabel tried to think of white elephants. White elephants, spiraling through the air in lines, becoming a staircase that led to a house made out of more white elephants. Pacifica drew back and smiled at Mabel with an uncharacteristically goofy smile, her slim hands reaching out to resume their braiding of the brunette’s hair. “You know, Mabel, your hair is pretty cool. They shaved the right side-it makes you look hot.” Mabel flushed and let out a strangled noise.

Pacifica’s elegantly manicured nails brushed the back of her neck as she began to weave strands of Mabel’s hair together, and the brunette had to resist an odd shiver. Mabel’s eyes widened and she tried to ignore the butterflies exploding in her stomach. I can’t seriously like Pacifica Northwest. Did my pain medication screw my hormones up? Mabel was strictly into boys. Boys, boys, boys. Hadn’t Mabel read somewhere that certain medications made you do and feel funny things? Then again, Mabel hadn’t really noticed how pretty Pacifica was-the curving slope of her neck, the straightness of her nose, and the pinkness of her lips-Mabel looked away quickly as Pacifica met her gaze quizzically, hands freezing against her head for a second. I am not going to think about this now. I’m not. I can’t.

The driver tried the best to hide his knowing smile as he caught Pacifica’s slatted gaze in the rearview mirror.

For the rest of the car ride, Mabel thought of white elephants and white staircases, trying to ignore the sparks of electricity Pacifica’s hands sent through her every time her fingers brushed her neck or her ears. When they reached the hospital and unloaded Mabel (she felt like a package or some sort of cargo, honestly), Pacifica spoke aloud, out of listening distance from the driver. “I think I did a pretty decent job with your hair, you know. I’ve never really tried to reverse French braid hair before.” Mabel fiddled with the art supplies in her lap and murmered assent, too afraid to look at Pacifica’s face. 

As they turned the corner of the sidewalk towards the front doors of the hospital, Pacifica let out a sharp exhale. “What is it, Paz?” Mabel followed the blonde’s gaze, and gulped, all thoughts of sneaking back into her hospital room dashed to pieces.

Standing right outside the front doors, foot tapping was Trish, adorned in a white coat, her hands on her hips. “She does not look very happy.” Pacifica nodded in assent as they rolled up to the front doors. Trish smiled tightly, her lips thinning into an almost non-existent line. “So glad to see you two had fun,” she whispered, her gaze flitting down to the plastic bags on Mabel’s lap. She held the door open for the two girls and followed close behind them, slamming the glass doors behind them so hard they vibrated. Pacifica winced.

“Did you think it was a good idea to go out to the mall while you’re still injured?” Trish snapped, stomping over past the cowering receptionist and jamming the up button on the elevator. “Did you think it was a good idea to get out of bed after receiving such serious injuries?” The elevator door began to opened, and Trish shoved it open angrily.

Pacifica and Mabel looked at each other. This was a new side of the nice, kind doctor. “She’s like the Hulk,” Pacifica whispered as they stepped inside the elevator, trying to hold back laughter as she looked at the fuming doctor. 

Trish spun on her heel, pinning the blonde to the wall with her glare. “What were you thinking, dragging Mabel out of the hospital to go shopping? It looks like the rumors about the Northwest’s daughter is true after all!”

Mabel tried to speak up, but was cut off by Pacifica. “Excuse me?”

Mabel resisted the urge to face palm. An angry Pacifica was a nearly unbeatable Pacifica, and either way this went, it would not end well. “Trish, it was my fault, I was the one who-,”

“It’s not your fault, Pines! Everything was fine!” Pacifica snapped, folding her arms. 

Trish stepped in front of Pacifica, and consequently in front of Mabel, who was becoming very annoyed with staring at people’s zippers. “Ms. Pines still hasn’t healed from the operations we had to perform on her in order to allow her to keep motion above her waist. Any kind of impact whatsoever could reopen stitches and made her condition worse. Also, in case you haven’t noticed, Ms. Pines has other injuries as well. Her head received a serious blow, which cracked her skull.” Mabel blinked and reach up with one hand to feel around her hair line. She winced as pain spiked through her as she felt around the bandages and the shaved stubble around it. The pain hadn’t been there before, had it?

Pacifica was past the point of rationalization, however. Mabel winced as Pacifica argued with Trish, her voice sharp and angry. “Come on, you honestly can’t expect Mabel Pines to be stuck in this stupid cubicle forever! She needs to be moving, like she always is!” 

Trish gazed down at her, coldness seeping into her gray eyes. “Ms. Pines is a patient, Ms. Northwest, and she is under my care. From now on, please don’t visit Mabel unless a nurse is with you in the room.”

Mabel and Pacifica gasped in outrage. “What am I, some sort of fricking criminal?” Pacifica hissed, stepping towards the doctor. 

“You’re not, but for Mabel’s own health, I’m keeping you from trying to pull another stupid stunt, such as the one you just did today.” The elevator doors slid open with a ding, and Trish stepped in front of Pacifica and began to push Mabel out of the elevator. “Visiting hours are officially over, Ms. Northwest. I think you can see yourself out.” Mabel knew her mouth was hanging open, but she didn’t try to close it. Trish pushed the down button on the elevator. 

Pacifica narrowed her eyes and folded her arms. “I’ll text you later, Mabel.” Her face softened momentarily as she smiled at the brunette, before hardening again. “See you later, doctor.”

The elevator doors closed with a ding, and Trish let out a sigh as she wheeled Mabel into her now familiar room. “Trish… that was a little over the top, don’t you think?”

The doctor looked at her, disappointment etched onto the lines on her face. “It really wasn’t. What you did was incredibly stupid and dangerous. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Mabel looked away. “I just want everything to be normal again. I’m so sick of waking up with these useless legs, and I’m so tired of being a useless sister.” She shook her head, not realizing that she was crying until the tears left wet droplets onto the light fabric of the blanket that covered her legs.

Trish’s face softened. “I know, honey. It’s not easy, and it’s not going to be the same. What you have to do now is make the best out of what you’ve got right now. And that is definitely not doing stupid things like sneaking out of the hospital.” Mabel nodded, suddenly feeling exhausted. Trish helped her get into the hospital bed. “Now, I’m going to have to bring a couple of other doctors in to check up on you to make sure you didn’t damage anything, okay?” 

Mabel nodded. “Could I… have some pain medication?” 

Trish frowned. “It’ll knock you out for several hours- is something hurting?”

“My head.” It was true, her head did hurt, but not that much. Mabel wasn’t going to wait for Bill to seek her out. She was going to go to him, and she was going to save her little brother as soon as humanly possible. Who knew, maybe Bill would be fine with making a deal for a new, working pair of legs. Trish nodded and squeezed Mabel’s hand gently before gently reinserting the IV. She pressed a button on one of the tubes, and Mabel watched blearily as a clear liquid trickled from a small hanging bag and down the tube, into her wrist. She could feel her skin pulsing around the needle, and strangely that comforted her. It reminded her that she was still alive, still breathing. Her eyelids fluttered closed and she let the smooth darkness drag her down into slumber.

While one part of her mind wanted to sleep in blissful forgetfulness, the other one reminded Mabel of what she needed to do, what she had to do. Think of Bill, think of Dipper’s mindscape-what did Dipper’s door look like in The Forum again? Oh yeah-it had been large and inky black, with large blue swirls adorning it and an ornate silver knob. She was pretty sure that there had been a glowing blue triangle symbol in the center of the knob as well, glowing a brighter blue than the swirls in the door. Mabel concentrated as hard as she could, every inch of her being screaming out into the darkness for Dipper’s door. Please. I _need_ to get through my brother’s door. Stars were popping like flashbulbs in the corners of her eyes, and slowly a shape began to form in front of her.

“I can’t believe that worked!” Mabel whispered, pumping her fist as the blue light of Dipper’s door lit up the blackness around her. Mabel looked down and gulped. She was standing on thin pieces of marble, spiraling up out of the blackness and extending into the sky. The door and its doorstep were not connected to the staircase and there was, roughly, a four meter gap between Mabel and the doorstep. Mabel winced. She hated heights almost as much as she hated math, and that was saying something. It’s just a dream, Mabel. Jump, land on the doorstep, and there you go.

Exhaling, she swung her arms behind her, just like her P.E. teacher had taught her when P.E. had been mandatory. Hadn’t she failed the long jump test? A vivid mental picture of her face planting in the long jump pit filled her head, and Mabel winced. Just jump! Focusing her gaze on the doorstep, she bent her knees, swung her arms backwards, and jumped, screaming. Her fingers brushed the top of Dipper’s door as she slammed face first into the black door. “Owwww!” Mabel whispered, probing her nose gingerly as she staggered backwards slightly from the door. Looking back towards the staircase, she did a small dance of victory, relishing the feel her leg muscles flexing. “Okay. Now it’s time for more adventure!” Mabel turned the knob of the door gently, flinching as her palm touched the strange warmth of the metal. It was almost as if she were touching Dipper, if Dipper were a door. She carefully opened the door a crack and peeked through.

It took her breath away every time, the beauty that was her brother’s mind. It probably put hers to shame. Letting out a breath, Mabel stepped through the door and into the woods that were her brother’s mind. The first thing that she noticed was how cold it was- her breath came out as frozen air in front of her mouth, and her hands were starting to prickle in the cold. It was darker, too, more overcast. There was still that odd silence, so quiet that it was screaming. Every twig or leaf that Mabel walked over made her wince as it sounded like a gunshot in the stillness. Despite the darkness and permeating chill, Mabel still enjoyed the beauty of Dipper’s mindscape. It was almost exactly like the actual Gravity Falls, right down to Susan’s ugly diner and the graffiti on the water tower. And, if she was right about her surroundings, the path she was taking through the woods would eventually lead her to… She quickened her pace as the familiar sight of The Shack peered out of the foliage.

Stepping into the clearing, she let out a shaky breath. It seemed like forever since she had actually seen The Shack in reality. It had only been a week or two, and this Shack seemed slightly off from the real one, but it made Mabel’s heart feel warm and fuzzy all the same. This ramshackle building had been her childhood, and Grunkle Stan, Wendy, and Soos had been her family. She barely remembered her real parents, who had died in an unfortunate electrical fire that had consumed their house (sometimes, Mabel would pull out a picture of her parents and squinted, trying to see what parts of her parents she had. Dipper had his mother’s eye shape more than Mabel did, and Mabel’s hair texture was more like her father’s.)

She and Dipper had been unscathed, which was considered a miracle-after all, the fire had killed two people, and burned down four houses that were reduced to ashes and rubble. Alan and Melissa Pines were dead, and Social Services had a very, very hard time tracking down any relatives of the twins.

Grunkle Stan had been the only remaining relative willing to take the two toddlers in. What a parent he had been! From an early age, Mabel had learned to lie beautifully, pick locks, and make counterfeit money so well that even Grunkle Stan mixed it up with real money. Dipper had been the brains of many of the operations-he learned computer coding and built his own inventions, one being a palm sized robot that could hack any mainframe of any computer. Yes, they had also been in the county jail. Multiple times. But in a town such as Gravity Falls, prisoners usually escaped easily, and the two sheriffs didn’t bother running after them.

Somewhere along the line, Mabel realized that her childhood had been far from normal, and in a fit of pre-pubescent self-consciousness, had attempted to act as normal as possible in order to fit in with certain groups of people at school. Dipper, however, made no effort to act any differently from who he was, and was therefore bullied rather badly. This went on until about eighth grade, when Mabel beat up several of her brother’s tormentors using the skills from judo class her Grunkle had made her take. Despite a month long suspension, Mabel had felt better than she had in a long time.

After that, she had vowed to stay true to herself. It was just too exhausting trying to be someone she wasn't. Pain squeezed her heart as she walked up the front steps of the Shack. She missed Grunkle Stan so much. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as she tried the doorknob. Locked. “Bill?” She called out, her voice wavering. Silence greeted her, and she sighed. The brunette walked around the side of the house, to where Dipper’s window was. She had used the tree beside it to get into Dipper’s room many nights after she had snuck out for parties and such. Wiping her palms on her flimsy hospital gown (she really needed to ask Pacifica or Wendy to get her some clothes from her house) she put one foot on a knobby part of the tree and began to shimmy her way up. Pine needles scratched her bare legs and arms; she brushed an irritable spider off of her hand as she made her way up.

Mabel slid along the thick branch that hung over the roof, wincing as her foot scraped against a patch of rather splintery bark in the most painful way possible. Letting go of the branch, she dropped neatly onto the roof, enjoying the feeling of her bare feet against the rough, sandpaper texture of the shingles. She looked up and noted with surprise that the window was boarded up from the inside. Walking up to the window (it was supposed to be triangular, wasn’t it?) she knelt down and tapped on the glass uncertainly. “Hello? Bill, are you in there?”

Nothing.

Frustration mounted and she tapped the glass harder. “Bill Cipher! I know that you’re in the-,” 

The window exploded and Mabel screamed as shards of glass flew past her, opening tiny cuts in her face, legs and arms. “I thought,” Bill growled, “that I told you to shut up.” He stepped through what remained of the window and started towards her, hands blazing with blue flame and pupils completely dilated. Mabel picked an especially large shard of glass out of her forearm. Frowning, she looked up at the crazed demon. “What the hell, Bill?”

The demon froze. “Shooting Star?”

“Yes, that’s me! But you can call me the living pincushion if you want, seeing as I’m full of glass right now.” She winced as she pulled out another slice of glass from her leg, blood beading and sliding down her calf.

“Oh, shit! Here-,” Bill snapped his fingers and blue fire consumed Mabel. It was cool and pleasant, and it tickled. Mabel let out a sigh of relief as the glass disappeared and her cuts healed. 

“What was that for, you dumb Dorito? I was just trying to find you!”

Bill made another hand motion and all the blue flame disappeared off of Mabel and flew into Bill. “I didn’t realize it was you. While you were off and out, Pine Tree and I had a little run in with someone-or should I say something-and it shook him up a little bit. Everything is fine now,” Bill said, noting the horrified expression on the girl’s face. “I just need to ramp up the protections around this part of the house.”

Mabel sighed. “Can I see him?”

Bill shook his head, blonde hair flopping over his eyepatch. “I don’t want his head to explode. You seem to trigger the worst of the pain, probably because you’re the most important and prominent part of his memories.” The older twin nodded. “So, do you care to tell me why you thought it was a good idea to leave the hospital when you’re badly hurt?”

Mabel winced at the low, grating tone of the demons voice. “Bill, you’re not my mom. I went out with Pacifica to pick up some supplies for the wheel-,”

“I don’t care. It was stupid, and I don’t want you to do it again. Also, I am your legal guardian now, so you should be listening to me.”

Mabel felt her jaw drop. “How are you our legal guardian? You don’t look eligible! You look our age! And we’re not related whatsoever? How the hell did you- What-What the heck!”

Bill smiled impishly. “It’s amazing what a little manipulation and a lot of money can do, Star! Those government people didn’t stand a chance against yours truly!”

Mabel blinked rapidly. “So… you’re my father?” 

The demon made a disgusted face. “Ew, _no_! I’m just your legal guardian, so I look after you and shit.” Mabel opened her mouth to speak, but Bill held out an ungloved hand. “We really shouldn’t be having this conversation outside, on a glass covered roof in Pine Tree’s mind. I was just going to go get you, anyways.” He cast a glance back through the window. “Uh, just let me attend to something, and then we can go.”

“Stay here for a second, okay?” Mabel nodded as Bill stepped back through the window. Curiosity got the better of her, and stepping carefully around pieces of glass, she peeked through the window frame. Her heart leapt at the sight of her brother, and she had to restrain an overjoyed squeal at the sight of Bill smiling down at her brother as he pulled the covers up over Dipper’s head. She briefly clasped her hands together in a semblance of prayer and closed her eyes. God, if you’re real, please let Bill and Dipper get together so my headcanons can become canon. I don’t know if you help demons, but I think you should help this one. She cracked open one eye and smiled at the sight of Bill stammering something as Dipper muttered sleepily, one hand reaching out for Bill. Yeah. So, amen. And shit. Giggling at her silliness, she didn’t notice the unamused demon behind her until he cleared his throat. “I can read minds, remember?” Mabel blanched, desperately trying to think of white elephants- but that only reminded her of when she was trying not to think about how hot Pacifica looked…

Bill opened his mouth, smirking, but closed it under the force of Mabel’s withering glare. “Not. One. Word.”

The demon shrugged, and snapped his fingers. A white door appeared. “Well then, let’s go get some ingredients!”

“What ingredients? Where are we going?”

The demon rolled his eye. “We’re gonna need a little help if we’re going to wake up Pine Tree, and the only person I know of that can help is currently… unable to without our help. So, we’re going to go get him! We only need two ingredients for the summoning circle, actually! A little bit of blood, and a bit of…something else.”

Mabel narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “So we’re summoning some demon dude?”

Bill smiled, nervousness seeping into his grin. “Kind of! You’ll see when we do it!”

The brunette nodded suspiciously as she took Bill’s hand and walked towards the door. “…Where are we going, Bill?” The demon blinked innocently and turned the knob on the luminescent door.

“The real world! I’ll need to carry you, or materialize a wheelchair- no, I’ll just float you because the ground in graveyards are a little bumpy for wheels.”

Mabel raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Graveyards? What on earth are we doing in a freaking graveyard?”

Bill patted her arm as they walked through the doorway. “I hope you have a strong stomach.” The older twin made a disgusted face but decided not to ask any further. She looked up at Bill and noticed something on the lapels of his jacket.

Something orange and crusty, something that looked almost exactly like… “Bill?”

“Yes, Star?”

“Is that… vomit on your jacket?”

“…No.”

“No way! It is! Whose is it? Is it some innocent passerby’s? Oh wait, it’s yours, isn’t it? You just barfed all over Dipper, right?”

“Shut up.”

“You did!” Mabel exclaimed gleefully as they floated towards consciousness. “That amazing! How did it feel, throwing up for the first time?”

Bill glared at her. “Awful. Now be quiet, before I destroy you.” The white light grew brighter and Mabel began to hear the sounds of the machines that surrounded her hospital bed. “I’ll move the both of us out of that stupid hospital as soon as you wake up, okay?” Mabel nodded.

.....

Mabel opened her eyes blearily, feeling as though she’d been hit by a truck. The pain medication had apparently worn off, and judging by the darkness outside of the window, she had slept for a good seven or eight hours. Weird. It had felt as though she’d been in Dipper’s mind for only a half hour or so. The now familiar numbness below her waist reminded her that she was once again back to being useless. The darkness settled back on her like a heavy cloud, and she resisted the urge to press the call button for some more pain medication. Any sleep would be better than the constant reminder of how utterly crippled and dumb and useless she was…

“Just because you can’t walk doesn’t mean you’re useless, Shooting Star.”

Mabel yelped in surprise as Bill melted out of the shadows in the corner of the room, his hands in his pant pockets. “You scared me!”

The demon rolled his eye. “And you scared me with all your thoughts. You were making me depressed.”

Mabel flushed, and crossed her arms. “I really hate how you can read minds sometimes, Bill Cipher.” 

The blonde spread his hands in a ‘what can you do?’ gesture. “Sometimes I do too, Star. But let’s not focus on the negative! Let’s focus on blood and summoning circles and grave digging!”

“You’re not seriously expecting me to go digging up dead bodies, are you?”

Bill nodded. “Yes, I really am.”

“And you think doing that is positive?”

“Yes?”

She was getting a headache; she could feel it pressing at the sides of her head and behind her eyes. Rubbing her temples, she let out a long sigh. “What the hell. I’ve already been in jail dozens of times. What’s grave robbing compared to that?” 

Bill, not catching on to her sarcasm, nodded excitedly. “Exactly!” he seized Mabel’s arm and snapped his fingers, and before Mabel could yelp in pain as the IV was ripped out of her wrist, they were somewhere else entirely.

Cold, frosty grass numbed Mabel’s hands, and she tucked them under her armpits for warmth. “Bill? Some help?” She gestured at her useless legs and frowned. Bill smiled toothily and snapped his fingers. Immediately, Mabel floated and turned until she was hovering at Bill’s height, blue fire encircling her legs and lower back. She spun her arms and she flipped upside down. “Wow, this is actually pretty cool!” 

Bill smiled tightly. “Please don’t do that again.” 

Righting herself, she frowned at him. “Why?”

The demon’s eye twitched. “At least don’t do that again- unless you have underwear on.” Mabel clapped her hands over her mouth, embarrassment rushing through her.

“Ohmigod, Bill, I’m so sorry! In all defense though, these hospital gowns are super inappropriate and maybe if you wanted to zap me some real clothes magically you could do that? That’d be great actually. Can you zap stuff onto me? Is that a thing? If so that’d be wonderful-,” She stopped speaking as the demon snapped his fingers. “Oh, hey! You can! Thanks!” She zipped up the long fluffy red jacket and smoothed out the thick pair of black leggings. Reaching up, she adjusted the toque so it would cover the shaved side of her head. Bill closed his eyes and tried to erase select parts of his memories from the past three minutes. While he was not attracted the girl whatsoever, it was still uncomfortable to be flashed. Then again, he wouldn’t be so uncomfortable if Dipper flashed him… His mind wandered, eyes glassy as Mabel floated in front of him, waving her hands in front of his face.

“Bill?”

The demon flinched, blushing a deep red. “Yep! Let’s go, Shooting Star!”

Mabel eyed him suspiciously but said nothing, inwardly noting the flush on his face and adding it to her mental notebook. She looked around, taking her surroundings in for the first time. It was the Gravity Falls graveyard-it was located on the fringes of the town, and as it was not kept up well, the forest was slowly reclaiming it, and many gravestones lay in between or around huge, gnarled tree roots. “So… who are we looking for?”

Bill closed his eye, his body tensed. “I’m trying to find his magic signature. Even after all these years, his bones will still retain some sort of magical footprint."

Mabel blinked. “Who is he?” The demon said nothing, but his hands clenched into fists. “Bill Cipher, who is he?” Bill flinched, and began to walk quickly, his eyes still closed, towards where the graveyard and the forest blurred. Mabel sighed in annoyance and floated alongside him. “Bill, careful, there’s a-,” Whunk! “SHIT!” “- tree right there.”

Eye watering, Bill knelt next to a faded gravestone covered in moss and ivy. “This one.” He looked up at Mabel. “I need you to dig this one up for me, Shooting Star. I can’t touch this body-it’d mean bye-bye for Bill.”

Mabel wrinkled her nose but took the shovel that Bill handed over to her-“I stole it from the grave keepers maintenance shack when you weren’t looking!”-and began to prod around the plot of earth in front of the gravestone. 

“Here?”

“No, a little to the left, if you dig there you’ll go right through a bit of rotten wood and totally break his fibula in half.”

“Gross!”

“Just keep digging, Star.”

Mabel grumbled, but kept digging.

Two hours and two blistered hands later, the coffin was uncovered. “Thank god,” Mabel whispered, letting the shovel drop to the ground. “Bill, can you get rid of these?” 

The demon shook his head. “No can do, Star. I only have so much magic I can use per day before I start using my own life energy, and I need all the magic I can get if we’re gonna summon someone to help Pine Tree.”

Mabel glared and him and poked at the red skin on her palms and between her fingers, wincing. “So now what?”

Bill smiled cheerfully. “We’re gonna summon our helper!” He snapped his fingers, and blue flame wreathed around the coffin and levitated it alongside Mabel.

The brunette eyed the coffin with an air of disgust and put her jacket sleeve against her nose in order to ward off any smell. “Where to, Bill?”

The demon whistled as he skipped into the woods, Mabel and the coffin trailing behind him like some sort of demented conga line. “Just to a little clearing not far from here! There’s already a summoning circle carved into the stone there!”

Mabel decided not to ask what a summoning circle was doing in the woods and kept her mouth shut as they floated along the forest floor. Bill was true to his word, and in ten minutes they arrived in a strangely shaped clearing (see: triangular), and both Mabel and the coffin were dropped to the ground in an messy heap.

“Here we are,” Bill crowed, walking over to Mabel and propping her up on is arm. “Now, you’re going to have to listen very carefully. I need you to go into the middle of the circle with the coffin and point the top of it north.” He snapped his fingers and Mabel was floating again. She looked at him and he made a shooing motion with his hands. “Go, go!” 

Mabel grumbled for the umpteenth time that night and began to push the coffin into the round, elaborately carved circle, gagging at the smell. Wincing as her hands touched the slimy wood, she rotated it so the top was pointing towards the peaks of the mountains in the distance. Wiping her hands on her leggings, she looked over a Bill. “Now what?”

“Reach into your left pocket, and pull out the vial of holy water, lavender, rosemary, and sage. Splash some of the water on the eye sigils in the inner sign, and place the lavender in the third innermost circle, the rosemary in the second, and the sage in the first circle.” Mabel yelped as she felt the heaviness of the herbs and the vial suddenly appear in her jacket pocket. Scrambling, she pulled out the ingredients out of her left pocket and floated over to the inner circle, uncorking the vial and splashing a bit of water on each of the four eyes, flinching a little as the water hissed and sizzled against the stone. Working quickly, she separated the bundles of herbs and placed them in their corresponding circles. 

Bill flashed her a toothy grin. “We’re almost done, Shooting Star, but I need you to do one more thing.” Mabel jumped a little as she felt a new mass, this time in her right pocket. Pulling it out, she stared at it. It was a tiny knife, glistening in the moonlight and etched with swirling, beautiful lines. The handle was pure white and looked as though it were made of some sort of bone. Bill cleared his throat. “I need you to give yourself a small cut and let it fall into the biggest eye, right behind the top of the coffin.”

Mabel nodded firmly. The hand holding the knife was shaking as she raised it. She was willing to do anything for her brother. Cutting herself was nothing compared to the extent she would go for Dipper Pines. Strength filled her and she brought the little knife down hard, hissing as a hot line of pain flared across her palm. “Don’t let the blood drip on anything but the eye!” Bill yelled, panicked. Mabel nodded and floated across the coffin, looking for the big eye. There it was, the largest of all the other eyes in the circle, strikingly realistic. “Place you palm over it,” Bill called out. “It might hurt a bit but I need you to keep it there while I recite the spell. Most importantly, don’t move, okay?” Teeth gritted, Mabel nodded, arranging herself behind the coffin. “Now!” Bill said, and began to speak at the same time Mabel slammed her head down onto the eye. Mabel screamed as something began to suck at her palm. It felt as though the eye had a mouth, with a thousand sharp tongues lapping at the torn skin of her palm. Bill’s voice dropped several octaves as he chanted, his voice rising and falling like the waves; there were echoing vibrations underneath Mabel’s hands.

“Arenis temporis horologium revertatur

mortuo fiat revertar,

annecto animae ad corpus-,”

Mabel let out another yell of pain as the eye clamped down harder on her hand, drawing out the blood quicker. Red light was coming from somewhere in the circle, and Mabel realized that the vibrations were coming from the coffin, not Bill’s voice.

“-unoque consilio caro atque anima simul

reducam enim conversionem-“

Stars burst in front of Mabel’s eyes, red and bloody, and momentarily she lost all senses.

“-facere quod perierat

ut in hoc mundo iterum!”

The pain receded and the light faded, and Mabel collapsed, cradling her hand against her chest. Breathing heavily, she didn’t hear the scrabbling noises coming from inside the coffin until the lid actually began to open. “HOLY SHIT! Bill! Something’s moving!”

The demon nodded, a strange emotion on his face. “Shooting Star, maybe you should come over here.”

The lid opened and Mabel screamed.

A man in his thirties, dressed in a long brown trench coat and pointing a glowing blue gun at Bill, growled. “Cipher.”

Bill smiled nervously. “Ford.” Unfortunately, Bill didn’t get any other words in as the man’s fist was slamming into his mouth, sending him flying against a tree. 

“Hey!” Mabel cried, floating towards the man and hovering over Bill’s crumpled body. “Who the hell do you think you are?” Mabel and the man cried in unison, glaring at each other. At the sound of laughter, they both turned to look at Bill, who was wiping blood from his nose.

“That’s no way to talk to your grandniece, Sixer!”

Mabel blinked. “What?”

The man blinked. “What?”

Bill threw his head back and _laughed_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that I've been really lazy with this fic but life always ends up getting in the way of the things that REALLY matter.... Anyhoo, enjoy! You're amazing! (https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=cOcFDQl5Pic=Mabcifia) 
> 
> Thanks to ANNAKOZUME WOO WOOO WOOO FOR BEING THE BEST BLOODY BETA TO BEAT MY STORIES INTO THE GROUND


	6. Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford has issues, and Bill beats himself up. Literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said on my other fic, IM SO SOSO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING THIS SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED BUT HERE I AM GIVING YOU THIS ANGST ENJOY MY DEARS I APPRECIATE EVERY HIT, COMMENT AND KUDOS <3  
> -ff
> 
> ps THANKS aNNAKOZuME

The night air was cold and biting on Mabel’s scalp, and she realized that her toque had disappeared from her head, leaving the shaved side prickling uncomfortably. She rubbed it, being careful not to probe the sutures there too much as she carefully avoided the man’s-her grand uncle’s-confused gaze.

After all the absolute _shit_ that had happened to her over the past couple weeks, this was probably the cruelest. The man looked almost exactly like Grunkle Stan did. _Had_ , Mabel reminded herself for the umpteenth time that week. Grunkle Stan was gone. But looking at this near mirror image of the dead man who had raised her from a toddler, this was cruel. If God really was real, he needed to cut it out with the surprises and heartaches. She was far from superhuman, after all.

_I have-had- two Grunkles_

The question that she kept asking herself over and over- and that she had to keep correcting.

Mabel couldn’t bear to look at the man-what was his name? Ford?-for too long. He looked like a much younger Grunkle Stan. Besides the hair style and color, slight difference in facial shape and overall physique, it was like looking at her Grunkle again. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, and she blinked quickly, glaring at Ford, who caught her abrasive stare and flinched.

Bill wiped a smear of blood from the corner of his smirking mouth, his eye darting back and forth between Mabel and Ford. With a crack, he reset his broken nose, smiling at the pain. Ford visibly flinched, and the demon watched him react with an unreadable expression in his eyes. “Well, then,” Bill said cheerfully, “Let’s go have a talk!” The demon began to whistle a tune, the shrill noise reverberating off of the moonlit trees, the whistle repeating itself, growing fainter each time.

He tried to grab Ford’s hand, but the man let out a disgusted snarl and backed away, trying to get a bearing of his surroundings. One of his glasses lens was cracked, and it impaired his vision. Great. The man’s inquisitive eyes kept going back to the girl- what was her name? She looked a lot like he had when he was her age-big eyes, square face, the same color hair-it was shaved on one side (a new style?), and the telltale Pines’ red nose. Bill wasn’t lying when he had said she was his grandniece. _What is going on?_ Ford bit his lip, mind slowly warming up, like he’d been asleep for a long time, or-

Dead. The word rang in his ears like the reverb of a bell, sharpening every part of his brain, firing up his neurons and sparking synapses. He cast a look behind him, looked at the warped and moldy wood of the empty coffin. _Oh, shit_. Ford’s legs wobbled as the memories leapt at him, clicking into the empty holes inside his mind. The girl was saying something to him, but the only thing he could hear was the _’thud-thud, thud-thud,’_ of his quickening heartbeat. He closed his eyes as the memories exploded inside of his mind, as vivid and clear as if it were happening right then.

_The sun filtered thinly through the thick cover of fluffy gray and white clouds, falling gently on the new blanket of snow that lay across the property. Undisturbed, silent. Peaceful. The inside of the house was not quite, so much._

_The ingredients for vegetable soup lay on a cutting board on the chipped kitchen counter, the pieces of potato growing more uneven and jagged towards the end of the cutting board. A white apron lay crumpled on the floor. Ford gripped the counter with his hands, fighting the urge to cry and scream. He stared at the potatoes. They just lay there, neatly cubed for the most part. They pissed him off, too. With a growl, he swept his arm across the counter, sending the potatoes and the other ingredients to the floor. “Shit, Bill!”_

_The demon leaned against the wall, opposite to Ford, and shrugged. He had another new body, a short, red haired man, but Ford knew it was him. It was always the eye, golden with that oddly shaped pupil, that made it easy to connect each new stranger to Bill. Ford had grown accustomed to Bill’s body hopping by now. “I couldn’t stop myself, Sixer, even if I had wanted. She didn’t go through with her side of the deal, but I did. I don’t make exceptions for anyone, even your brother. Those are the rules-I don’t make them, I can’t break them. You understand why, right?”_

_Ford closed his eyes as the demon moved across the kitchen silently towards him. “I understand,” Ford whispered, voice cracking as he thought of what his brother would feel like when he found out the news. “I understand, but Stan- he won’t-,” His breath caught in his throat as a warm hand cupped his cheek._

_“You,” Bill whispered, eye intense, “Are the only one who could-,”_

“Give him a while, coming back from the dead must be a shock. Not that I’ll ever experience firsthand.” Bill’s voice. It was almost the same as he remembered, but it was warmer. Fuller, almost. Ford shook his head to get rid of that train of thought, and to dispel the lingering remnants of the memories that had stopped so abruptly…

“Are you… are you okay, Ford?”

His eyes snapped open in surprise, and Ford looked up from the ground, startled as he realized he was lying on cold stone. It was the girl- his grandniece- “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” He panted, head aching, “I’ll be fi-,” The memories hit him again, stronger this time, and Ford caved under the barrage of memories that he didn’t want to remember-

_“WHAT DID HE DO TO LEANA?”_

_“Let go of me!” Ford rasped, purple and red spots flickering around the corners of his vision. Stan’s hands loosened around his throat, and his brother grunted as Bill easily pulled him off of Stan and threw him across the room. Stan shook his head as he staggered to his feet and ran at Bill, swinging his fists. The demon was unable to react as quickly as he had only recently jumped bodies, and he wasn’t able to deflect the punch Stan threw at him. Bill’s head snapped back and a loud crack filled the room. Something had broken, probably Bill’s nose. Blood fell to the wooden floor, and Ford’s pulse echoed in his ears._

_“Bill, leave. Please.” Ford whispered, locking eyes with the demon. He was enraged at Bill, even though he knew that Bill had to follow the rules._

_The goddamn rules._

_Stan has a right to be mad. He should be mad._ Deal with him calmly and rationally, _Ford told himself. He took in several deep breathes, trying to calm his emotions. The demon nodded and walked past where Ford stood, his hand ghosting over Ford’s chest before he disappeared. Before Ford could turn to Stan, a fist meant for Bill crashed into his stomach, bowling him over. Wheezing, he looked up at his brother, who in return was looking at him, surprise and rage warring in the eyes that were so like his own._

_The broth for the soup was boiling over in the kitchen; he could hear the telltale clatter of the metal lid banging against the top of the pot-but Ford was too pissed off to care. “Can you please not punch me or my bo- Bill? That really frigging hurt!”_

_Well, that was apparently not the right thing to say. Not that Ford ever said the right thing around people._

_“You’re such a goddamn idiot, did you know that, Ford?” Stan raked his hands through his thick brown hair, face screwed up in anger and disgust. “What kind of sane person allows a demon into their mind? What kind of person-,” He stopped and spun on his heel, pinning Ford against the wall with his stare. “Forget that, what kind of person has that kind of relationship with a disgusting, murdering demon? I saw her body, Ford! Her body was practically-it was-dammit! Do you even care? Oh, yeah! You don’t, do you, because you-you’re in love with him, right? In love with the monstrosity that killed my-god! God!” Stan flung his hands up at the ceiling of the house, face red and blotchy, unshed tears making his eyes glisten. “I mean, how you do even- do you-,”_

_Ford began to shake in rage, and he curled his fingers into trembling fists. “You don’t get it, Stan! I’m sorry about Laney, I really am, but it was an accident.” What was wrong with him? Why was he sympathizing more with Bill than with his brother? He already knew the answer. He was different from his brother-he saw the world through a different lens. That’s what Bill loved about him, how he could detach himself from events and people that he wouldn’t be able to bear otherwise. Detached, like he was now._

_All he felt was a cold fire burning in his chest._

_“Yes, an accident, Stan,” he said as his brother opened his mouth to speak. “You never could understand anything beyond the superficial, beyond what’s right ahead of you. You never will! You couldn’t possibly understand what it’s like to go past all of that, you can’t understand the things he’s shown me, you don’t realize that he’s not just a demon, there’s a human piece of him inside of him too-,”_

_“Shut up, would you?”_

_“Don’t tell me to shut up!”_

And then-

_No!_

Ford wrenched himself up out of his own mind and struggled to stand, head reeling. The girl reached out to support him, and he flinched. She backed away and he waved his hands, trying to form coherent sentences. “Sorry, I was- I’m not very good with physical contact- sorry- um.”

The girl smiled up at him-she looked like she was well into her late teens, but was still rather short-and Ford honestly couldn’t tell if it was forced or not. Probably forced-he had that effect on most people. “That’s okay! You’re a lot like my brother that way. My name is Mabel, and you’re… Ford.” Mabel’s voice wavered slightly as she greedily took him in. Was she blinking back tears? Ford rubbed the back of his head, feeling awkward. Wow. Brought back from the dead, and his socials skills still hadn’t changed.

He mustered up his best smile. “Nice to meet you. I hear that we’re related…?” Mabel nodded, glancing over her shoulder at Bill, who had retreated to a nearby tree and was muttering to himself, his face screwed up with different emotions. Weird. He noticed the blue fire holding Mabel’s legs upright, the stitches and white gauze bandages, saw the way her muscles were already atrophying, and deduced that she must have recently injured herself seriously. _No need to open that can of worms by asking her about it…_

“Yeah,” Mabel said, her voice shaking a little more, “You look like… Grunkle Stan. Bill didn’t tell me much- scratch that, he didn’t tell me anything about you. Or the fact that you’d the one to help us wake Dip-,”

Bill smiled widely at Ford as he clapped a hand over Mabel’s mouth, effectively cutting off her sentence. Ford glared back. Bill’s smile faltered slightly, but he kept talking. “Okay! How’s about we go to a safer place and I explain a few things?” Mabel and Ford nodded simultaneously. Bill nodded again. “Shooting Star, take my hand, and Sixer-,” his eye flickered over to Ford and an undecipherable emotion crossed over it, “-you take Star’s.”

Bill grabbed Mabel’s hand, and she dug her fingernails into the fleshy part of his palm, furious. “How come you didn’t tell me that I had another Grunkle, you jerk?”

The demon winced, the new pain foreign to him. “Geez, I didn’t think you’d be so freaked about it-I was _going_ to tell you earlier, but then you might not have helped me bring Sixer back-,”

Mabel’s eye twitched. “Oh, you didn’t tell me about the plan because you were afraid that I wouldn’t help you? Because it’s unreasonable for someone to not want to have their palm bitten by a stone mouth and raise dead people to life?” 

Bill swallowed, eye flicking from side to side. For the first time in his existence, Bill Cipher had never been so afraid of a mere mortal. This feeling was not a good one. “We’ll talk _later_ ,” he muttered, eye closing and brow furrowing in concentration as he brought up the pearly, shining door that led to the Forum. 

“Funny,” Mabel said, reaching out and taking Ford’s glove encased hand carefully, not breaking eye contact with Bill, “I thought we were going to talk _now_.”

Ford didn’t say anything, just stared numbly at that silvery door. It was the same goddamn door that Bill had taken them though, to play chess and to talk. His chest ached as he recalled memories long pushed away-Bill in his normal form, spinning his black cane in between his finger, intense chess games, Bill teaching him to dance, the tea that tasted like shit because Bill just sucked at making it but Ford would drink it anyway-it was too much. He didn’t want to remember this. He didn’t want to want something that was long dead and not reciprocated.

“Hey, stop slowing us down, you caboose! 

Ford blinked. “Oh. Sorry, Mabel.”

His grandniece grinned at him over her shoulder, her eyes dancing as they stepped through the glowing door. “This is my favorite part!” Ford smiled back at her, feeling his chest tighten. It used to be my favorite part, too. Letting out a breath, he closed his eyes and let the light wash over him, his senses raw. His gloves chafed his callused palms, the sensation making him shudder. How long had it been? Long enough for him to have grandnieces, apparently. He looked down at his free hand as the trio stepped down into the marble floor of the Forum. It hadn’t changed a bit- the floating marble slabs spiraling up into darkness, the billions of doors, and the elaborate marble staircases winding around the gigantic room all reminded him of happier times. _Don’t think of that now._

Bill looked at him, emotions running across his face. _Shit. Yeah. The mind reading thing. Almost forgot about that._ Bill turned away, but Ford thought he saw a small smile tugging at the corner of the other man’s face. The demon was acting odd, internally grappling with something. _Probably trying to decide the best way to get rid of me_ , Ford thought, trying to project his thoughts. Bill’s shoulders tensed, and Ford felt a small thrill of satisfaction run through him. 

Bill spun in Mabel’s direction. “You probably want a seat, Shooting Star! Lemme grab us all some chairs!” The demon flicked his wrist, and three white plush loveseats dropped from somewhere above them, narrowly missing Mabel and making her yelp in surprise. “I’ll be right back,” Bill said, walking towards the nearest staircase. “Gotta grab something.”

Ford looked down at the chair as the clicking sound of hard rubber on stone faded away. These chairs hadn’t changed at all, either. Mabel plopped down onto the cushion, the blue fire around her legs disappearing just as quickly as its maker had. An awkward silence filled the cavernous room, Ford scrambling for something to say as Mabel stared at him. He fiddled with the worn ends of his coat, wondering why he hadn’t been dressed in nicer clothes to be buried in. And who the hell had put his blaster in the coffin with him? Probably Bill. He knew that Ford wouldn’t have wanted to be buried in some stuffy black and white tux. For someone so dismissive to human ritual and tradition, Bill had always been attentive when it had come to Ford. A wry smile crossed his face before he could stop it. Not anymore, obviously. Not after what had happened yesterday-no, after what had happened all those years ago.

“Is this blood?” Mabel inquired, picking at a dark stain on the couches.

“No, it’s just a special type of tea,” Ford replied, unable to meet the girl’s inquisitive gaze.

Mabel locked eyes with him, her eyes glittering like she already had an inkling of what was- _had_ -happened between him and Bill. “How’d you-,” Mabel began slowly, only to be cut off by Bill, who simply appeared in his appointed chair, looking calm and serene, his mask up. “I’m back! What were we talking about?”

Mabel looked at Ford. “Nothing.” 

Ford pulled off his gloves, closely inspecting all six of his fingers. No decaying flesh, no bones- _I feel like I’m dead, though_. The only thing changed about them was the chalky pallor of his skin. “Bill,” He said, his voice hoarse, “How dead do I look?”

The demon dropped Mabel’s gaze and looked at him, lips pursed. “Not too dead. You’re just pretty pale, but that’s because of lack of sun and blood circulation. The spell I put on your bones-you-brought you back. Basically knitted you back together, good as new.”

“Why the hell did you do that?”

Bill began to look slightly uncomfortable. “It’s not like I wanted you to stay dead. Before, I was waiting until the right people came along so I could bring you back.” A little thrill fluttered inside of Ford’s chest, and he tried to squash that hope-“But the main reason I brought you back now was because I need your help.”

-Or Bill could squash that hope for him. Ford narrowed his eyes, ignoring the feelings playing bumper car in his chest. “What do you need?”

Mabel looked him straight in the eye, one hand on the couch, the other absentmindedly touching her legs as she shifted them. Ford felt a pang of pity as he realized that she could make her legs work only inside the mind. “I have a twin brother. His name’s Dipper, and he’s in a coma that has nothing to do with his injuries and everything to do with some weird-ass monster who’s screwing with his head. Bill thinks that you can help. Can you?”

Twins. Ford’s eyes were so wide they probably looked like saucers. Looking at Mabel, he could imagine what Dipper would look like. A younger version of Ford himself. Did the boy wear glasses? It couldn’t be a coincidence, another set of twins in the family. A piece of hair fell limply into his eye, and he brushed it away absentmindedly, trying to process the shitload of information he had been hit with. “How long has he been in the coma?” If there was a supernal being messing with the inside of the boy’s head, he only had so long before he became trapped in there permanently. If it was a year or more, it would be extremely difficult, if not impossible, to defeat whatever being completely and bring the boy back. If it were under a year-

“Since the accident,” Mabel said, her face unreadable but her voice wavering.

_Tread carefully, Ford._ He tried to speak in the gentlest voice possible. “When was that?”

Mabel swallowed. “About three and a half weeks ago.” She exchanged a look with Bill, sending a question. Bill shook his head. Ford knew that gesture, and the look that went along with it. It meant, _not now_. Was there something he was missing? Something he should know?

Bill cleared his throat. “Three weeks isn’t that long. I was there almost right after the accident-I should have been able to get Pine Tree out of there.” His hands clenched into fists. “I couldn’t. At first I suspected that there was someone-no, _something_ , keeping him inside his own head. After some recent events, I know that to be true. It’s something I have never seen before, ever.” Ford let out a surprised breath. Bill not knowing something? That was rare.

“This something must either be really new, or really, really old, then.” Ford mused as he patted his coat, feeling along the worn inside pockets for a scrap of paper or pen, his fingers trembling. From shock or an odd side effect of being brought back to life, he didn’t know. He willed them to stop shaking as he smoothed the worn, wrinkled paper out on his pant leg. “Tell me what it looked like.”

Mabel absentmindedly rubbed the shaved side of her head, wincing slightly as her fingers pressed down against the small suture wound there. “It wasn’t so much a visible thing as a feeling. It attacked our minds- it felt black and suffocating. Like it was trying to keep us in Dipper’s mind. It was just really… terrifying.”

“And I ran into something that represented your brother, and something that looked like Star’s and Pine Tree’s friend,” Bill said, picking nonexistent lint off of his immaculate black pants. “It wasn’t really them, of course, just a guise to fool Pine Tree. It worked until I visited his mind, though.”

Mabel made a muffled snorting noise, and both men turned to look at her. She stared up at Bill innocently, face slightly flushed from contained laughter. “Oh, _seriously?_ ” The demon snapped at Mabel, a red blush creeping up the back of his freckled neck. Ford, left out on the mind reading/exchange, could only gaze back and forth between the two, feeling like the third wheeler in a dysfunctional friendship. Finally, Bill wrenched his eyes away from Mabel’s, face bright red, the smattering of freckles on his rather boyish face glowing. “Don’t ever do that again, do you hear me?”

“No promises, Bill. I’m still pissed at you for not telling me I had another Grunkle, even after you’ve lived with me and Dip since eighth grade. That’s four years of you not telling us.” Mabel paused, eyes widening. “But… Grunkle Stan was fine having you around? You didn’t wipe his memories, did you?”

Bill shook his head slowly, and Ford felt his jaw drop. Bill, the nihilistic and destructive demon, living with Stan and the kids? Mabel pressed her palms against her eyes, voice hitching. “Even Grunkle Stan-,” Mabel clamped her mouth shut, and turned away. Bill closed his eye briefly, a quick spasm of agony that lasted a mere second. Ford caught it, however. He paid attention.

“He didn’t want me to say anything, Star. He asked me. We made a deal, after you turned thirteen, after the… incident. He didn’t want either of you to know about his brother,” Bill glanced at Ford quickly, “or to be alone in town, or in the woods. We made a deal,” he said again.

Mabel’s eyebrows furrowed. “What did that deal entail exactly?”

Bill let out a breath. “I can’t tell you that.”

“I think you can tell me the basics, Bill.”

“I can’t. Sorry.” The demon was clipping his words, hands shaking as a flood of emotions poured over his face.

Mabel dug her fingers into the couch cushion. “Don’t be a jerk, Bill! What did you take from him to seal the deal?”

Mabel was expecting an answer, and Ford a cold dismissal. However, neither Ford nor Mabel were expecting Bill to let out a guttural scream of frustration and slap himself in the face, hard enough to send him staggering backwards.

“Holy shit!” Mabel yelped as blood began to flow from Bill’s nose. The two humans flinched as Bill turned to the nearest marble pillar and sunk his fist deep into it in a display of rage. A cracking sound echoed through the silent room-was it from marble or bone cracking? _Probably both,_ Ford thought. He’s in human skin now. Not exactly invincible, or even durable.

Bill punched the pillar again, and again. Again. He was speaking under his breath as well, his voice cracking.

“Bill…?” Mabel whispered, leaning over the back of the chair, face white. The demon turned, and Ford flinched at the expression on his face. Bill let out a high, keening noise, one hand shakily reaching out towards Mabel while the other mangled one tried to grab it and pull it back. Bill began to tremble with the effort of keeping his body in place. He shook his head back and forth, the long hair covering his right eye, flying back and forth.

“ _Get back,_ ” he whispered, suddenly turning and catching Ford’s eyes. “He’s going to do something rash.” What the hell? Was Bill talking in third person now? Ford swallowed, looking into Bill’s eye. It seemed different-there was deep affection in it.

Everything about Bill’s actions were wrong, wrong, _wrong_. It didn’t make any sense, but Ford nodded anyways, sidling up to Mabel’s couch and picked her up princess style.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” Mabel whispered, unconsciously gripping the lapels of Ford’s jacket with her shaky fingers. Ford began to back away slowly, keeping eye contact with Bill. “I don’t know,” Ford said honestly. “I haven’t got a damn clue.”

They watched as the demon slowly sank to his knees, blood dripping from his broken fingers and nose onto the white floor, making a wet dripping noise. “Is he… crying?” Mabel said, tears welling up in her own. And he was, great heaving sobs that wracked his entire body, making it shake. It was a truly pitiful-and painful-sight.

Ford stared at the demon, unable to look away. “He’s never done that before.”

Mabel looked up at him, the top of her head grazing his ear. “Never cried?” She said incredulously, sniffling a little bit.

Ford shook his head, fighting to keep his emotions in check. “Never,” he whispered.

Bill was a mess, blood everywhere, his clothes rumpled and covered in tear stains. His hands shook like leaves in the wind. This couldn’t possibly get any more painful to watch, Ford thought, fighting back unwanted tears. And then the demon started talking to himself.

Bill hissed out slowly through gritted teeth, eye unfocused. “No-I will not.” A pause. “Don’t you dare.” Pause. “Please, Bill-I,” Pause. “ _No,_ ” Bill yelled hoarsely, his visible eye wide, the white showing all the way around. “This is my deal to make. Just let me be. Just leave!” His voice rose in pitch, climbing to a scream and breaking off. “Leave me be!” For a moment, his eye glowed a blinding electric blue, wreathing around his body and coming out of his mouth, wrapping around his neck. Mabel and Ford could only stare, stricken.

Bill let out a dry sob as he tried to flex the bleeding and broken fingers of his left hand. His whole body shook once, twice. Finally he collapsed onto the pink stained marble, unconscious. Mabel and Ford looked at each other, and simultaneously let out the worst, most filthy swear word they could possibly comprehend. Mabel jumped out of Ford’s arms and ran over to Bill’s prone form, bare feet sliding across the slick marble a little bit, Ford close behind.

She turned Bill over, air whistling through the gaps in her teeth as she took in his face. “This looks really bad,” The older twin whispered, wiping a smear of blood away from the corner of Bill’s mouth with her sleeve.

Ford shook his head, looking around nervously. “We need to go somewhere else, right now.”

Mabel looked up, alarmed. “Why?” 

“Bill isn’t conscious. He doesn’t need to sleep, ever, so the Forum is usually always up and running. But now he’s out, so that means that he’s unable to hold the Forum together with his mind, meaning that it’s going to start crumbling apart in, oh, I’d say twenty seconds or so.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Mabel whispered, eyes wide.

“Shit,” Ford agreed. “Do you know where any of those doors lead?” He gestured towards the nearest row of doors.

Mabel brightened, and pointed at an ornate black door, with a silver doorknob and ornate silver lines etched into it. “That one is Dipper’s… I don’t know where the door out of here is, sorry. It might be a bad idea going through Dip's door with that thing prowling his mind, though…”

Ford bent down and picked up Bill’s prone form, wincing at the weight. “Trust me, whatever’s in his head is better than being thrown into nothingness and eventually being dissolved and absorbed by the void.” Mabel nodded in agreement and scrambled to her feet, wincing as a low rumble began to shake the entirety of the Forum, creaking sounds following widening cracks in the marble floor. “Mabel, can you open the door for us?” Ford yelled over the sounds of the floor collapsing behind him.

“Yep!” Mabel called back as she raced towards Dipper’s door. The ceiling began to cave in, and Ford moved faster, the meters seeming like miles. Damn, Bill was heavy!

“I’ve almost got it!” Mabel called, palm pressed against the door. Instead of the silver lines glowing with the blue light that Bill caused, Mabel’s touch caused a warm golden light to seep into the lines, making the door glow and disappear. Mabel breathed in the scent of yellow summer and everlasting pine, and let the setting sun of Dipper’s mind warm her face. It was almost peaceful. Then Ford rammed into her and they both fell straight through the doorframe and kept falling, through the gold and pink streaked clouds.

The wind whipped through her hair, and Mabel let out a giddy laugh, will herself to fall more slowly. Her brother’s mind was really something else. Ford’s mouth was open wide as they descended. “This is his mindscape?” Mabel nodded in affirmation. “Geez… this is impressive.” Ford frowned. “Really silent, though.”

Mabel hummed. “Yeah, we noticed that last time. We think it’s because of the weird thing lurking in Dip’s mind.”

They touched down softly in the sunlit clearing, the Shack awash in hues of gold. Ford stared up at it, blinking quickly. “It’s beautiful,” he whispered.

Mabel smiled, and hopped up the steps to the door. “We might have to kick down the door,” Mabel muttered. She turned the doorknob, and to her surprise, it opened easily. She stepped inside, the light from the windows making the dust motes sparkle in the dark corners of the room. “C’mon in, Ford, I think Dipper’s upse-AAUGH!” She yelped as a wooden spoon hit her head.

Ford stepped through the doorway, closing the door behind him. “Mabel?” He was, in turn, also hit by a flying wooden cooking tool. Swearing under his breath, he looked up the stairs. “There’s someone standing on the steps, Mabel.”

Mabel squinted. “Dipper? Is that you? Bill’s hurt, we need help.”

“Who the heck are you?” A hoarse voice demanded.

Ford looked down at Mabel. “He doesn’t know us?”

Mabel sighed. “It has to do with the weird thing prowling around his mind. Don’t ask him about it.” Stepping forward, she called out to Dipper in a reassuring tone. “We’re friends of Bill’s!”

Dipper came downstairs, and Mabel tried not to laugh at the sight of him. He had equipped himself with a cooking pot as a helmet, and had various wooden utensils and cutting knives taped to a Nerf vest that was tied around his waist.

The corner of Ford’s mouth twitched, despite the situation, and despite the worrying state of the demon he was carefully cradling in his arms. “Are you Dipper?” 

Said teen crossed his arms and looked over at him warily. “Yeah, and what’s it to- _Bill!_ ” The pot/helmet clattered to the floor as the younger twin rushed over to Ford. “What happened? Is he okay?”

Ford softened at the worried look in his grand-nephew’s eyes. “It’s a long story kid. Let’s go to the attic-your room is there, right?”

Dipper looked up. “How’d you know that?”

Ford shrugged. “Friends of Bill, remember?”

Dipper held his gaze a moment too long, and Ford saw himself in those light brown eyes. “Right. Let’s go, then.”

“You have some explaining to do,” Dipper said, as they reached his room, the door creaking as it was pulled open by Mabel.

“Well then,” Mabel said wearily, stepping into the room and turning to face her brother, “Let’s go have a talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bill really doesn't like sharing his head with stan.  
> .....  
> also in the upcoming chapters.... i hope you're all ready to hop aboard the sin train with me..... *tips conductor hat* *pulls whistle*


End file.
